A Dance with Flames
by pinkfloyd1770
Summary: If Zuko had been born the prodigy, the war would have turned out differently. He would have turned out differently. Begins before the finding of the Avatar and details his new relationship with his family, and the choices he makes as the prized son.
1. Chapter 1

The air turned warm as the escort neared the ledge overlooking the ocean, picking up speed and sending the scent of ash tree blossoms, salt, and grass washing up and across the field. Summer. "Summer never ends in the Fire Nation." So went the mantra of every merchant, sell-sword and diplomat. The South Pole's Winter brought out white, delicate blossoms framed by deep green leaves, and they covered the valleys and mountain slopes like fresh snow. Omashu's Fall gave the trees their brief, faint tinge, but Spring came early and the flowers blossomed with the colors the trees couldn't hold. Summer proper became spring intensified; the heat bloomed in tandem with the buds on the ash trees, and during those few days of first flowers came the Festival of Fire where every bender of repute flaunted their skill before the royal family.

Zuko grew up with the same cyclic pattern of natural and cultural marks dictating his sense of the seasons. Summer started when his uncle allowed him to go on the journey to the lower tip of the Fire Nation and watch the smiths turn their bending to weave steel into its sharpest and strongest incarnation. Dragon's teeth. His uncle told him, in a voice filled with solemn reverence, that no where else could metal be forged in such a way, that only a few fire benders could attempt the craft and fewer still went on to master it and be called upon by the Fire Lord to arm his battalions. Only later did the alignment of his uncle's trip with the equinox cease to be coincidence.

And he knew summer continued when his mother took him to the groves and orchards of ash trees to gather their blossoms, each flower showing like a burning star on its own and like thousands of bleeding hands when in groups against the black bark.

He dismounted, stepping beneath the shadow of the bloody blossoms of a lone, towering tree, the riders behind him stopping near its edge, careful not to let the man they flanked stray any farther. The breeze stayed steady as Zuko met the edge of the cliff, a faint spray of warmth meeting his face as each wave contacted the vertical face below. The sun was still breaching the horizon, a slow, ponderous birth from the water. _The fire sages would skewer me and mount my skull like one of their dead dragons for thinking that._ He heard the man behind him shift from side to side, the chains clinking as if in protest. _Soon the chains will fall and he'll never have to move again. Agni knows. _He lowered his head and saw only water, shimmering like molten silver in the growing light. When the sun broke out halfway, the light spilled over the top of the ledge and met his feet. He could feel the warmth straight through the basilisk skin hide, and the feeling rose slowly along the rest of his body, the cloth offering even less impedance to the heat than his boots. He felt as though in a vacuum that was slowly being filled with some weightless fluid. As the light slid up his neck and towards his face, his breath slowed and his face rose in tandem, following the rays, slowly and smoothly until finally his eyes were level with the horizon and filled with a matching gold, and he saw it, careening across the sky before him. Agni's eye.

He exhaled, driving the air out through his mouth before inhaling through his nose, pushing the breath through his chest and down towards his stomach until he was full on the dry heat and his skin tingled and burned, like his limbs danced near a vat of steaming liquid and moved away just as the vapor made contact and condensed, sending bubbles of heat driving into his flesh. Another breath pushed out, and his hands met, palms facing outward, moving forward as his chest worked, a flame igniting in the small cavity. His fingers slowly uncurled as the flame faced its maker, growing brighter and hotter without on its own accord until he turned his palms up and raised them above his head, Agni's offering, the small spark unveiling itself, rising into a glowing beacon, growing and growing until he finally drew his hands apart, extended his arms outward, the last of his breath spent. He inhaled and the heat danced all over his body, the flame dissipating on his skin. This was summer.

He motioned to the men behind him, and they brought the man in chains beneath the shadow of the tree. Once the rattling stopped Zuko turned and looked at him. He hadn't said a word during the entire ride, content to sit restrained and surrounded by those who had condemned him. Was this the face of a traitor, still and solemn? Where was the fear, the shame? The regret? Zuko confessed himself disappointed. At the least he'd prepared himself for indignation, denial, but this...it unnerved him more than he was willing to admit. He looked away and saw his uncle standing beneath a low lying branch, admiring the blossoms. _I should speak to him afterward. _Still, there was no defiance, just the quiet acceptance. Maybe that was shame burning away into humility.

Another motion and the man knelt at the edge of the cliff, head down, his face hidden from the light and the wind. Father told him that the only way a man under his command would ever respect him is if he knew first the consequences of disobedience and then that his commander was willing and able to enact them. _No one fears a toothless beast or a breathless dragon. _He drew the sword from the scabbard on his back, the light burning brilliantly along its edge as he swung it past his face. And the colors danced along the metal, here dull and smoky, there sharp and bright. Not a proper headsman's weapon, but faster, lighter and deadlier. The smiths would never hear of anything else. Theirs were not butcher's implements; if they happened to make a weapon that could be swung heavily and without poise, so be it, but their intentions were never other than art. _And fire. _His thumb and forefinger pressed together and ran along the blade's edge, drawing a line of iridescent blue just above the metal. He swung once, slowly moving the blade to trace out the sun's ordained path before cutting back sharply, the air whistling across the metal as he did so. The line didn't bleed.

The opposite edge rested on the man's shoulder, signaling him to look up. _Agni's judgment. _Zuko pulled the blade back, keeping level with the line above the shoulder, his eyes fixed. Never look away, his father said. Only a coward shirks away from the sentence he is about to pass. The air whistled and the flesh parted. The head fell to the side, rolling towards the base of the tree, and where blood should have sprayed from the stump and stained the grass, thin tendrils of black smoke twisted upwards.

Li walked forward and brought the head up by its hair, holding it outward as though for display before fire blossomed from the nostrils and eyes, withering the flesh, the skull showing as its mask fell away in black flakes and smoldering clumps. Zuko watched without expression, sheathing his blade and rolling his shoulders. By then the fire had finished its work, Li's grasp relinquished as the last few strands of hair were vaporized. He looked down at his handiwork as though it was something foreign, shrugged, and kicked the scorched husk aside, sending it careening over the edge and into the water. Iroh shook his head.

"The body?" Chu asked, moving slowly forward.

Li shrugged. "Into the water." He placed the heel of his boot on the shoulder, pushing lightly and causing it to turn over. "Let the fish and crabs suck and gnaw at it."

_And us gnaw and suck on the crabs and fish._ Zuko's thought seemed to be echoed by his uncle.

"You should show more restraint, lieutenant. Traitor or not, the act is done, and there's nothing to be gained from spitting a corpse."

Li's brow twisted at first, before relaxing into concession. He turned to Zuko, smiling. "Your uncle speaks true. A corpse is a corpse. Though I care only about having respect in life rather than death." He turned away in a sharp motion, the body again moving as his foot twisted against it. Li had the body of an archer, tall and lithe, his fingers copies of his body's physique. His hair, hanging long and loose, flanked his face, made him look younger than his twenty two years. Though too young to have been one of Zuko's instructors per se, he had taught the prince the finer points of archery, saying that a versatile warrior was a live one.

Li paused and stared out to the horizon. "Still, dying in Agni's gaze, at the height of summer. A respectable end to a nearly respectable life, wouldn't you say?"

"He died cleanly."

Li laughed. "That he did, though how could he not, with that kind of blade and skill?" His smile waned. "What's the saying? Dragon's teeth are just as dangerous to those who wield them as to those who fight against them?"

Chu snorted. "It's the man that does the fighting. A weapon is only as dangerous as its owner, whether it's a Dragon's tooth or a wood axe." So spoke the mooselion. He came up beside Li, a moving wall of muscle encased in meshed steel. His instruction to Zuko had been official, his lessons grounded in the practical use of a weapon to defend and kill, his wisdom delivered through aching muscles and the cuts of failed parries. Chu's weapon of choice merely solidified the truth of his words, a massive two handed sword that knocked Zuko off balance whenever he tried to swing it. Chu pressed again, "The body still sits by the ledge, and I'm not inclined to let it rot or toss it into the water."

"Really, Chu? Since when do you care for the niceties of the rites of the dead?"

Chu fixed Li with narrowed eyes. "Since I killed or saw die dozens of would-be warriors like you, most of whom didn't have the luxury of their family's name to puff them up and guide them to my training yard."

Li was nonplussed. "Well, unless I'm arrogant as well as blind the fellow without the head was considerably older than all those would-be warriors, so I don't think he's quite as much in need of your pity as they were."

"It's not pity...

"Enough." Zuko's voice cut through the din, silencing both men. Li shrugged looked to the horizon again, while Chu addressed Zuko softly.

"My apologies, Prince Zuko. I forget my restraint."

"Understandable. But you both seem to forget where we are." He garnered two confused faces and one solemn nod. Walking to the body, he grabbed he ankles and began dragging it under the tree.

"Prince Zuko..." Chu protested but was waved off. Even Li paused in his meditation of the sun and looked after the prince. Zuko positioned the body near the base of the tree, laying it parallel to the trunk.

He stood and looked down, taking in the singed stump of a neck, the tattered cloth and the pale hands. Finally he knelt and placed his palm on the body's chest, holding it just long enough for the fire to assume the shape of his hand before morphing into a mass of heat and light. But it didn't spread. Zuko continued kneeling, the fingers of his hand curled slightly, his breath coming in a slow steady stream. The stench of the burning flesh rose almost instantly, but he didn't waver, just felt the heat and wanted to move closer and see the flames reach the heart. Soon the heat began to wane, the flesh turning to ash and waste like a stump of wax being consumed. As the flame flickered and lowered, his palm flew open and he released his breath in a short burst, the flames shooting out from the center of the body, rushing through the network of veins and along the planes of muscle and shafts of bone. He rose and turned away, the fire having already reduced half the body to black waste. Iroh watched, hands folded behind his back, gold reflecting blue. _Agni's demand._

As Zuko walked towards his uncle he caught the scent of burnt flesh and cloth coming from his body, and briefly considered taking the path down to shore to wash himself of it, but he had done the deed, so he should bear its mark for the time being. Iroh continued to look at the now smoking remains in silence. Zuko stood beside him without knowing how to intrude on the silence. In the past he'd played spectator to the sight, his father either towering beside him or performing the deed with the precision he'd just duplicated. And whether his father observed or produced the spectacle, Zuko never looked away, because Lord Ozai always watched, and he knew.

Finally Iroh turned away, leaving Zuko to look at the ash and debris. A breeze blew towards him and he turned away, anger seizing him. He'd been marked already.

The company rode out in silence, taking the worn path along the coast, approaching the city from the west. Zuko found himself taking deep long breaths to even out the flow of heat along his skin, his concentration being broken by Iroh's question.

"So how did it feel, enacting the Fire Lord's justice?"

The Fire Nation's justice. That's what father said. He carried it out, sometimes reinterpreted it, but that didn't change what it was.

"Natural. I'll be in father's position one day, and my arbitration will effect more than just one man's life."

"Mmm. Has your experience in the war so quickly acclimated you to the loss of life?"

Zuko frowned. "Fire Lords have always viewed treason in the same way. Didn't Azulon request the same of you?"

"Indeed he did, and I, being an obedient son, carried out his wishes as a young man, though not without knowing the details of the man's crime, nor its circumstances."

"Treason is treason."

"So it is, in the eyes of the Fire Lord. But what would drive a man to betray his home and people?"

"Commander Yen deserted. Then he went over to the Earth Kingdom, gave away the position of two battalions, both of which would have been wiped out if it weren't for the assistance of the Dai Li operative that was stationed with the detachment. One life against hundreds. A fair trade, I think."

Iroh nodded. "So long as you know your reasons and convictions." His uncle sighed, and Zuko spoke quickly.

"And now you'll tell me that the lives of the Earth Kingdom soldiers were forfeit as soon as our side learned their intention and location. Well, as you yourself have said, it's war. If we don't make a distinction between sides, then talking about treason is meaningless to begin with."

Iroh laughed. "Far be it for me to question that, Prince Zuko, but you seem to have misheard my path of thought."

"Yes?"

"Well, you still haven't answered the question of circumstance. Why would a seasoned commander betray his own men?"

"He deserted. Once that was done, the burning sword was already above his neck. As to why he chose to desert to begin with..." Zuko shrugged. "Maybe he was a coward." _And maybe I'm a Water tribesman._

"Zuko, you and I both rode out with that man. Before that we escorted him from the Burning Tower where he'd been held for questioning. I needn't tell you what methods of "questioning" were used on him during that period of time."

Zuko grimaced. Commander Jin was said to be rather taken by flaying, though Yen's body hadn't been harmed in such a manner.

Iroh continued. "He never once protested, nor denied, nor pleaded. He requested only that word of his passing be sent to his wife and child and that no service be held for his body. Then when you faced him, did he ever once look away?"

"No." _Nor did I._

"And when he knelt before the horizon, before the sun, did his gaze falter?"

"No."

"Are those the acts of a coward, or of a man who planned and who knew the price of his actions if he were discovered?"

Zuko remained silent, and his uncle relented. He heard Li say that his father had sent a rider to meet the. He didn't look up. _I didn't look away. No. Agni saw. Agni knew. _


	2. Chapter 2

The cushion rested flatly beneath him, his upper back felt sore, and the flames behind him rose and fell like the bow of a ship during a storm, turning the pleasant heat on his back into thousands of tiny pin pricks that reminded him of the sensation of insects crawling along his skin. And that said nothing about his rear. He shifted again, no longer caring if anyone saw his discomfort. The motion brought temporary relief, but it was soon replaced by a shiver down his left shoulder blade as the flames receded sharply. He glanced to his father, the man's face impassive, his back rigid enough to be made of stone. Regardless of his facial expression, the tumult behind him announced the Fire Lord's mood with all too detailed clarity. Another shift and the padding of the cushion shifted a bit farther, denying relief and deepening the discomfort of the already sore muscle. His father received another quick look, though nothing came of it. If this is what he had to look forward to on a day to day basis as Fire Lord, he'd follow his uncle's lead, abdicate to Azula and spend the rest of his days drinking tea and flirting with women.

He looked down at the two rows of men seated before him, seemingly arranged in alternating order of young and old. Zuko exhaled softly and quickly, bringing momentary stability to a small portion of the inferno. That discontinuity was no act of serendipity. Both rows started with an officer from the navy, then gave way to two from the regular ground force army, switched again, and continued in the same dual pattern until the last four men came into view, their faces obscured by the shadows the fire. All were old, none were respected. Ministers Yi, Ten-Ong, Lin, and Qin. Treasury, Trade, Agriculture, and War. Zuko shook his head. Empty titles for empty men. The first post had long since been in the hands of General Yu, who seemed to have a knack for spinning two coins out of one from between his fingers. The second had been rendered rather superfluous since the Fire Nation had developed what might be considered an unsavory reputation outside its borders. So it was in an official capacity. The third...Zuko thanked Agni for the swift, wet spring and the high, hot summers. The vast orchards of trees with fruit so ripe they burst in his mouth when he bit into them, fields of golden wheat that could swallow the palace guard and still have room to sway freely, and the fisheries, so rich and expansive the fishers said a blind man could stab at the water and come out with a meal. The only rule, from the lips and hand of the Fire Lord himself, set the bound on the amount that any ship could harvest, and no captain or net hauler questioned that limit while a navy ship loomed against the horizon.

And Qin. Relentlessly innovative and endlessly stupid. As an engineer who had been dissatisfied with maintaining and repairing ship engines, he had risen to the notice of his superiors by first attempting to make those same engines more efficient through the introduction of impurities into the metal parts that would make them contain heat more readily. The subsequent design change had culminated in the failure of the engines of an imperial cruiser several kilometers from shore, leaving the crew stranded for three days before a scouting vessel had reported their dilemma and a rescue operation was mounted. That incident had perturbed Admiral Xi's smoothly running operations for the span of three hours and had brought Qin to the Fire Lord's attention. He had been brought before Lord Ozai, stuttering and stumbling, visions of the burning sword and Agni's gaze widening his eyes and, as Zuko sometimes heard Admiral Xi say, always in the presence and earshot of crowds, loosening his bowels.

Regardless, Ozai had ignored the stench of fear, literal or otherwise, and, as often happened when a strategic advantage presented itself, allowed his curiosity to stay the motion of steel and fire. 'One month', he'd said, 'One month to create something which will give us an advantage in the war effort, or your head will decorate the walls outside the Burning Tower." And if he'd held his bowels until then...Every old acquaintance at the Technical Institute had been hounded in a rush, every working graduate recruited under the Fire Lord's authority to create "a new weapon of war." It had all been theater; Qin had taken an old idea, a child's toy, the balloons released on the eve of the Fire Festival to mimic the stars, and expanded it a thousand fold. The first demonstration of Qin's "marvel of engineering" had taken place in the courtyard at high noon, the vehicle only large enough for two, its builder and a helmsman, the latter who had in mid flight overshot the flames in an attempt to demonstrate the balloon's ability to pick up speed, igniting the interior and sending be balloon and its passengers crashing to the ground.

Yet there Qin sat, at the end of the room, wringing his hands, as he always did when he slowly gathered the courage to make his voice heard to the Fire Lord. Zuko snorted, the flames rising again. _So he has an idea. _He wondered how many revisions whatever scheme he'd drawn up had gone through before it was deemed ready to be brought up before council. His balloon design had immediately warranted the attention of a dozen engineers and craftsmen, all working at a feverish pace to redesign the engine and make the shell more flexible and durable. In the end all parties were placated; Qin kept his head, however questionable the value of its contents, and the Fire Lord received not only an edge in the war effort, but an official whose political ambitions exceeded his ability to make them manifest, and whose crude ideas could be refined into viable implements.

The flames receded to a steady state. Zuko looked towards Xi, watching his hand sweeping across the painted waters surrounding the upper edge of the map. _The monthly disaster report from the North Pole. _Three more ships gone, entombed by ice and lost in the black waters. He'd only ever been as far north as the upper edge of the Fire Nation, and even there the waters held the green tinge of life near the coast and reefs. Beyond that, he knew only second hand, from the detailed reports of the navy admirals, to the whispered hyperbole of returning soldiers, all ending in the same grim pronouncement that once a man broke the icy sheet, nothing could help him. That had been over a year ago. Then Commander Xi had made a hasty return to the capital from the front, arriving to report the death of his superior, who had been "split cleanly in half from forehead to neck by a disk of ice as thin as any blade." Ozai had been unmoved, the flames remaining unperturbed, dismissing the act as stupidity paid for for neglecting to wear a helmet in the heat of battle. And out of that mishap, Admiral Xi had gained his title and present position, gesticulating over the toy board like an overly privileged child playing at his war games.

Xi was careful with his toys though, which was much more than could have been said for the late Admiral Quin. Zuko would always remember him as the man who had worn an overly elaborate helm, decorated by twin flames of polished gold flanking a cleanly cut ruby which caught light and turned the stone into the sun at dusk. _ And a shame that the original helm was mislaid and the reproduction wasn't a comfortable fit. _He looked at Xi's face and his glance was returned, briefly and without meaning.

"I see no way of breaking their defenses, short of pure attrition." He lowered his hands and looked first to the Fire Lord, who remained still and silent, and then at his fellow commanders.

General Yu spoke first, his hands folded in front of him. "If I may be so bold, Admiral Xi, but I see no point in extending our siege of the North Pole, unless, as you say, we're in the position to commit the bulk of the navy to "win by attrition." He ended the statement with a low trill; he might have been tasting some exotic wine from the southern isles, the flavor completely foreign to his tongue. The flames remained at their low ebb. Zuko kept his breath slow and steady.

Xi frowned as other voices started to rise.

Admiral Lin pushed forward as if to display himself on the table. "My forces are patrolling the eastern coast of the Earth Kingdom and keeping the transport of supplies to their troops by the sea routes in check."

"And mine the western coast." Admiral Ki interjected.

Lin leaned farther in. "Our fleet is spread out too thinly as is. Redirecting every available ship towards the North won't serve our cause in either case."

"I never suggested anything of the sort, Admiral." Xi addressed Ki, but kept his glare at Yu the entire time. "I simply meant to give a candid account of the situation." Again he looked around. Lord Ozai said nothing, but Zuko felt the flames rising.

Yu chuckled as though the entire discussion really was a child's war game. "Nor did I intend to suggest that you implied anything of the sort. I simply meant to make the next realistic conclusion that in lieu of such a tactic, we have nothing to gain by devoting quite substantial forces to a siege that isn't giving way to any new ground."

"So what do you suggest?" Xi knew the answer, but he couldn't stand being lead into a conclusion.

Yu shrugged. "That should be obvious. We accept our loses and withdraw. The bulk of the forces in the South will reinforce those around the Earth Kingdom, with a small detachment remaining in Northern waters to monitor the situation."

Zuko's breath stopped momentarily, but the flames behind him spiked all the same. He looked at his father, whose face held nothing, and whose body had become as rigid as his back. And still he said nothing. The chorus beneath him attempted to compensate.

"So we capitulate to a Water Tribe victory?" Lin was all but crawling over table to get to Yu, his voice sounding strained.

"I won't give support to retreat. The precedent it sends would be unacceptable."

'Weakness, 'cowardice, 'madness', all meshed into a cacophony that Zuko ignored. He let his eyes wander between Yu and Xi, both as silent as his father. It was as if Xi couldn't decide whether he should openly smirk, or acknowledge the general's lack of reaction as a sign that he was far from outmaneuvered, so he let his lip curve and straighten as he heard the words around him.

The heat on his back had finally evened out into a comfortable sheet, and Zuko almost wished that Yu would say something else inflammatory, rather than standing and waving his hands for calm, which Ozai reinforced with bright, searing flame that Zuko could feel towering over him. _No one fears a breathless dragon._

Yu waited another moment. "You again think too rigidly. You speak of cowardice and weakness? Tell me, what does it appear as when we've conducted a failed siege for over a year, loosing over a dozen cruisers in the process? That is not a demonstration of strength, but one of impotence."

_Now this is getting interesting. _Yet not heat rose along his back. His father was listening, for the moment, and no one dared disrupt that process.

Xi looked less certain, but his voice lost none of its weight. "A withdrawal would embolden not only the Water Tribe but the Earth Kingdom as well. Our raw strength isn't the only thing that keeps our enemies subdued. It's also fear. Fear of our pervasiveness, and our relentless pursuit of victory in battle."

_And our relentless incompetence, apparently. _He would have agreed with Xi six months ago, when the lose of ship and man had still been borderline acceptable for an effort of this magnitude, but since the incident of Blackwater, the loss of four cruisers in one battle, even Xi's caution hadn't offset the tone of any of his reports. He knew what was on the lips of every officer present. _Another Ba Sing Se. _  
"Certainly. However I see little difference between the level of impotence conveyed by withdrawing or continuing to have our naval blockade repelled and slowly dragged to the bottom of the sea."

General Chen nodded. "Admitting you don't know how to use a sword and facing momentary derision is better than making a pretense at skill and removing your foot."

Yu laughed. "Well said. Though I would say we've removed more than a foot so far; we're working our way up through the leg, I think."

The heat flared again, and Zuko almost winced at the sudden burst. "If you're suggesting that we commit the bulk of our naval forces to push the siege in the North, do so. If I want lame jests and snide banter, I'll send for a mummer."

Knowing he had overstepped himself, Yu bowed his head. "My apologies, Lord Ozai. In lieu of withdrawing outright, I do believe a concentrated force would be our only other course of action. However, I consider the conquest of the Northerners of be of secondary importance to our efforts in the Earth Kingdom. The Water Tribe is completely ineffectual outside of their fortress; they have no navy of any significance, and their industry is limited by their lack of mineral resource and skill with fire. Their city is built upon and out of their element, a weakness that unfortunately becomes a strength in that environment, but they hardly pose the same threat as the Earth Kingdom." He folded his hands again, calmly surveying the scene before him. "The North makes a pretty prize, I'll grant you, but one that would be better seized with a powerful, decisive strike, rather than a lethargic, cumbersome grab." Xi nodded his head slowly, seemingly satisfied. _Too easy. _Zuko looked at him and the admiral simply shrugged, tilting his head towards his counterpart. _Point and counterpoint, then. _He'd have a word with the admiral later. In the meantime, his thoughts thoughts found no echos of skepticism or disagreement, and all eyes were trained on the Fire Lord, but they could have been trying to decipher the thoughts of the court painter's rendition for the good it would do them. Zuko let his breathing slow. The heat along his back fell and rose slowly with the rhythm of a heartbeat, the pinpricks washed away by what felt like a pressure from the tide of his blood. And then Ozai spoke, and the pressure relented, and Zuko knew the decision before the words left his father's mouth. He didn't focus on them, nor on Xi and Yu; he saw Qin in the back, hand clenched, face pale, on the verge of announcing himself. When he spoke, he had to reiterate himself a second, then a third time to be heard over the clamor of the order for .

"My lords," he shouted, "there is still the issue of our efforts in Ba Sing Se."

Yu smiled cordially, always one to ride on the pleasure of a victory. "Well I suppose we have to deal with both our large scale...difficulties today."

Chen spoke before Qin could reply. "Our efforts there won't be so easily remedied by the application of more force."

"We do remember history, general." Xi was as cordial as Yu had been, though he looked bored with the topic.

"History is a patient instructor, though, always willing to repeat lessons to her pupils." Yu spoke thoughtfully, tracing his finger around the lines of black ink that were the wall of the Earth Kingdom capital. "Still, I believe we all learned our first lesson well enough, and I, for one, am disinclined to repeat this one."

Xi's eyes narrowed. "Says the man who just suggested the largest siege force in Fire Nation history."

Yu smiled. "Two different lessons, I'm afraid, as we have distinct advantages in the latter situation."

"Oh? Would you care elaborate?" _And here comes the point._ Zuko tensed, much like his father, leaning towards the general and admiral.

"But you already know, general, at least in the same way we all do." He looked up. "Prince Zuko's oft mentioned but as of yet unknown informant within the walls of Ba Sing Se."

There was a general murmur and suddenly Zuko was the center of everyone's attention, including, by the way the heat of the flames shifted, his father. Zuko merely nodded. "General Yu is right. I do have an informant in Ba Sing Se, and they're the reason for our current, though tentative alliance with certain members of the Dai Li." _An alliance that's beginning to wear thin. _

Xi nodded. "Most recently we were able to prevent the massacre of two of our battalions on the information that was provided to us through the Dai Li, though we have yet to act on the alliance in any truly meaningful way within the city."

"I've previously suggested that we attempt to leverage the Dai Li into overthrowing the Earth King." Yu paused. "Am I correct in my understanding that the Dai Li are indeed the power in the city?"

"The Dai Li control the city proper, but they're still loyal to the Earth King."

"And we have your word on this, Prince Zuko?"

Zuko shrugged. "You do. Though if you're not convinced then by all means send your own informants into the city. I'd be curious to see what they manage to find." _If they manage to find the Dai Li before being crushed under a rock._

Admiral Zhen spoke for the first time. "I've tried, on numerous occasions, to infiltrate the city and place an agent close to the Dai Li, or at least to an official who has connections to them, but with no success."

"The Dai Li know and trust my agent only insofar as they are able to closely regulate the information that's relayed back to us; they won't stretch that trust any farther than they already have.

Yu conceded. "So the small fraction of insurgents doesn't wish to test their luck more than they already have."

_Nor do you, apparently. _"Simply spoken, but true." He turned to Zhen. "I understand your skepticism, but it wasn't easy getting an agent in with the Dai Li, and maintaining their trust is no small feat either."

"Trust," Yu mused. "What trust do you really have with the Dai Li, Prince Zuko?"

"Trust was the wrong word. The Dai Li maintain this relationship as long as they find it beneficial, just as we do."

"Remind me again, what is the benefit to the Dai Li?"

Zuko played along. "They want to remain in control of the city, general, and so they keep the Earth King in ignorance. There's little better way to do that than to ally yourself with those who can surely the ruse."

Yu smiled. "Ah. So a stalemate, then. As is the present case with the North Pole."

Zuko returned the expression, mimicking the icy cordiality he'd seen Azula wield with the flourish and precision of a sword. "So it would appear." _But you should know better, general, or I suspect your head would be adorning a particularly sharp spike._

Zhen snorted, but said nothing; Zuko couldn't tell whether the sound was meant for him or Yu.

"But surely you can divulge something to us, Prince Zuko. The identity of your agent, at least." Yu swept the room with his smile. "We can trust each other with that, at least."

Zuko almost burst with laughter at that, but schooled himself at the last moment. Xi and others were not so disciplined, letting their derision fill the chamber. Even Qin could be seen chuckling nervously, his fellow ministers shrinking even farther into the background of memory and attention. Ozai was again stone, the flames throwing shadows across his face, like ethereal scars. Zuko saw the molten golden eyes of that inhuman mask shift towards him, and he inclined his head, the gesture so minuscule it was missed by all else.

Then the flames rose again, snuffing out the sounds of the chamber until Ozai's voice rose to fill the vacuum again. "My son's strategy in Ba Sing Se has served us well thus far. If it proves ineffectual in the final conquest of the city, so be it. For the moment it serves our purposes. The navy will converge on the North Pole by the end of the month, and before the moon has fully waxed, we will have conquered the last of the Water Tribe."

No one needed to be told that the council had adjourned; Xi and Yu stood nearly simultaneously, while Qin still wrung his hands in frustration. Chen and Zhen were the next to rise, sweeping out of the room after the three ministers. Zuko heard Yu speaking to Xi as he turned towards his father.

"I would suggest placing Zhao in command of a portion of the fleet. He's proven quite effective on the battlefield, and he's capable of inspiring loyalty amongst those who serve under him..." His voice trailer off as the two exited the chamber.

_So Zhao is Yu's new puppet. How long will he dance to that tune before he realizes that the strings form a noose? _"Father, do need me for anything else?"

Ozai shook his head, the flames still emphasizing every hard angle of his face. Zuko stood and bowed, quietly moving towards the chamber door, where Qin caught him by the arm.

"Prince Zuko, if I might have a brief word?"

Zuko sighed and followed the minister down the hall, the afternoon light shinning off the red tiles. Qin stopped at a gap between the decorative columns that flanked every window.

"What is it, minister? I don't have much time for sneaking around through the palace." He briefly remembered chasing Azula around the courtyard and through the halls, always losing in the end because she had the corridors committed to memory. He smiled in spite of the man before him, though he earned no comment.

"I was unable to be heard at council, as you know, but I do have a plan."

_Will it involve unintentional explosions? _"Go on."

"No one is yet going to admit it outright, but we're never going to be able to penetrate the walls of Ba Sing Se with manpower alone." His hands writhed with excitement. Zuko was reminded, absurdly, of two pale sea creatures fighting each other. "So I have a notion." He reached into his pocket, producing a neatly folded sheet of paper and handing it to the prince. "I urge you to examine the plans I've come up with and show them to your father. If implemented, this could tip the scale in our favor."

Zuko considered telling the minister that the ashes could take his plans, but simply tucked the paper into a pocket of his shirt with a nod. "I'll look at them and take your request into consideration. If there's nothing else..."

"Oh, certainly Prince Zuko." And with a bow the man left, moving with a jerky gait.

After watching Qin disappear with the same curious fascination that he'd observed the man's hands, Zuko turned and walked towards his room, the scent of blossoms wafting around him, the heat playing along his skin. His chambers were set in the east wing, overlooking the courtyard and pond, giving a pristine view of the ocean and the rising sun. There were ash blossoms blowing in through the open window now, settling on the floor and furniture. His bed, the chairs, the desk were all made of the wood of the ash trees, black and light and hard, catching and holding the sun like molasses. Out of curiosity, he took the paper from his pocket, handling it as though it were old and frail, instead of thick and fresh. He unfolded it on his writing desk, the design surfacing square by square until he saw the schematic, the lines of ink cleanly absorbed into the surface. He traced the lines with his finger, reading the details explaining each component, examined the enlarged, intricate illustrations of the smaller components. Finally he refolded the paper, just as methodical as before, and replaced it in his pocket. If his sister were present to examine it, he would simply have burned the paper, confident that its contents would remain intact. Win the war? No, but for Azula...He took a fresh sheet from the corner of the desk, then the ink well from the other corner, dipped the iron tipped pen and began his message. And her face, the look on Azula's face when she found out what was happening. That would be the beginning of a victory.


	3. Chapter 3

_Well it's been a while since this has been updated, but I haven't stopped adding small pieces to it regardless. As a further note, I always thought the way certain characters, especially Azula, behaved in the series wasn't really realistic given their ages. So in this story, I decided to bump both Zuko and Azula's ages up by two years, making her 16 and him 18. This doesn't mean that the Avatar has already been running around for two years. It's just a reflection of the amount of time they've had to mature. Also, I wont' be strictly adhering to the canon's chronology, so Aang may arrive a bit later than originally planned. Also, the story is a bit slow at this point, I know. The board is pretty much set with this chapter, so soon we'll see how things unfold.  
_

She stepped off the tram, into the fading light, and when they followed, she knew they meant to kill her. Two from her car, two from the car in front. A square pattern. They flanked the interior of the crowd, sliding past citizen and officer and school child like specters. And...she turned her head smoothly...a fifth, forming a point just behind the square. No slipping through the center. She almost chuckled. So she was worthy of five assassins. Five bending assassins. The points of their hats turned into pinpoints of light in the low sun. She inhaled and felt the heat respond. A second skin. The dual pair moved closer, almost out-pacing her. They could try. Dawn or dusk. Still she felt the urgency as they closed, the fifth never losing the corners of the shape. Her ankle throbbed under the staccato her steps now assumed. Heel against stone. She had been careless. One Dai Li agent near her, what did it matter? Just a coincidence. Her breath steadied and the pain evened out, receding into the dull background of peripheral senses. A misplaced step, too hard, too fast, an uneven stone, and now a twisted ankle. Her mistake. There was no coincidence. A Dai Li shadowing her, probably since she left the apartment facing the merchant district. Only a damaged ankle. If the foot fall had been less certain, or if she hadn't caught her balance in time, she would have bled on the stone, a stranger dead in a strange city, cold and primitive and clogged with fear.

Fear. She could feel it too, more so than those around her who only had a small notion of what was to come, what could come. Ignorance was their sole comfort. Sometimes she could feel a different power grip her, spread across her skin, and she knew it, something vague and distant, rapidly drawing closer until she could no longer keep her breath steady. She turned again, into another crowd, across a bridge. Still far enough. When she had first come to the city, faced the wall, heard her father's voice, far and above, the walls that would fall, that they would make fall. And...her uncle's experience, _The unbreakable walls. So many men broke themselves like water on rock. _She had stopped and looked at the rock, searching for some sign or mark of the Fire Nation's push, rebuffed though it was. Nothing. Just smooth, and cold, and hard rock.

Her hand had been like ice as she'd pulled away, pale and cold like the stone. Then the cold spread up her arm, crawling along like a sheet of ice, branching through her veins until it clawed at her chest and narrowed her vision. She'd thought the sun was different here; the city must have been placed in such a location that she couldn't draw on it effectively but that didn't make any sense, the only places in the world where a fire bender felt the cold were the North and South Poles, and then only during a solstice. It was her weakness again. Another miscalculation. She'd curled her hand, held it against her chest, cradling it like she'd been wounded. That night she'd been unable to bend without the flames dying from bright yellow to dull orange, the edges flickering and flattening out like eroded mountain peaks. _Never. It had never happened like this. Not even when I was young and drilled to the point of exhaustion, earning one of father's rare and taciturn compliments. Rare praise for frequent exertion. Zuko. Zuko with his blue fire. Even he returned exhausted and heaving. Sweating and burning. His flame never flickered. _

Another sharp turn. She pushed against anyone, everyone who came into her immediate path. And still they came after her, slowly closing. Another breath expelled. Her skin tingling.

She'd mediated before the fire she'd lit, slowly breathing vitality into it, the pale orange flames sharpening and turning to gold, their cores steady and bright. She'd exhaled and closed her eyes, opening them once she felt the heat even and nearly lost her focus. The interior of the flames, expanding and contracting in tandem, had turned a pale azure, fighting against the deeper metallic tinge, but still persisting. Slowly she'd extended an open hand, the fire responding to her, moving from the tips of her fingers and concentrating above her palm, a nebulous entity of heat and light, pulsing with the life she fed it. Then the fire spread in an arc above her, blue and gold, and the walls already had their faint fissures.

She could see the junction ahead, a wide square with narrower paths branching out, people crisscrossing in every direction. That was her goal, but there would be no distractions there, no flowing crowd to placate her pursuers' hand. Her eyes roved left and right, head making small, sharp turns. _Not like this. I will not be beaten by this city. _Then she saw her. Just a few feet ahead, hood down, hair black, skin fair, not as pale but still passable in this light. Only her hands could be seen under the mass of black and green. Black and green. She was in a sea of it as she moved again, slipping past one then another, shedding the pain. _One chance. _They shifted to follow her, connected by unseen threads. The branching point approached, and her hands went to her sides; she was diagonal to the woman. A few more steps. The agents increased their speed and she hit the ground in a rapid impulse, her leg kicking out in a half-crescent. She registered the gasp, the sharp expulsion of breath and the crack and rolled to the side, sending a thin jet of flame at the men in front of her. As they scattered she continued to the side, rushing through the half-open doors of a clothing shop, ignoring the shouts and protests as she ran to the rear exit. The threads were cut and the shape was broken. She had little time. The throbbing came back but she ignored it. They would know by now. Some anonymous woman who would be dragged in for relentless questioning. It didn't matter. She knew nothing and couldn't fathom what had happened.

Now she found herself facing the backs of the merchant's shops, wedged between parallel establishments, the barriers all slopping green roofs and smooth white stone. The path wound out before her, straight here, crooked and sharp there, the sun barely casting its feeble rays on the opposite walls. She shook her head, breathed deeply. _Move, move, move. _And she did, against protest and simmering trepidation. There would be no escape here. _It would be just after the festival of fire. Father would be holding more fire bending tournaments in the next month. The fire blossoms. Zuko's fear of climbing the trees unless she went up with him first, but he was over that, had been for quite some time, but he didn't feel comfortable. The pale, warm sea water...Enough. _

She stood at the back of the tea shop. Luck. Her face responded with disgust. Placing her fate in the hands of pure chance and what others would call providence or coincidence. That would be her death, lying in the street bleeding and broken. She placed her hand on the door's center and pushed in. It gave way. Unlocked, as she'd been promised. Jasmine. Incense. Citrus. The smells meshed into a strong, simmering aroma that made her feel relaxed. _Was that his plan? Placate and strike? _No. He'd had the opportunity, but those five were no agents of chance.

No one bothered her as she walked through the back rooms; they didn't so much as look at her, as though they were afraid of recognizing her at some later point. _They had their sense of preservation, at least. _A man with long hair in a top-knot, thin and with skin stretched gauntly across his high cheek bones, looked up and inclined his head briefly to her, lifting a porcelain pot delicately by its handle and thin spout, pouring steaming, pale green liquid into an identically colored cup. He placed the cup on the tray with its twin, bowing and turning from her to walk to the main sitting room. All the protocols observed, she waited a few moments before following, eyes narrowing as she entered the room.

Five patrons and a roaring fire, music from a lute, and an even stronger aroma of freshly brewed tea. He sat at a table off center from the room, but still in plain view to anyone who happened to walk in off the street. The owner stood next to the table, waiting for her to take her seat, which she did after absorbing the face of every other person sitting down. More little rock-moles, as she liked to call them, and all burrowing along just as blindly as their wild counterparts. But they were loyal. Maybe Long-Pham wasn't as clumsy as she always assumed. _Or maybe I've miscalculated again._

She received only an inclination of his head as she took her seat, her cup before her the moment she'd finished arranging herself. The owner bowed and left, receiving the barest smile from one patron and a wave of hand from the other. After the door shut Azula rested her hand on her knee, her nails making a dull but distinct sound against the cloth. Long Pham took a sip from his cup, inhaling deeply after he did so.

"The best tea in Ba Sing Se, by all accounts."

Azula only smiled, the corner of her mouth stretching up until it threatened to form a smirk. "I'm certainly happy you've been enjoying yourself, minister."

"Enjoying, no. Occupying, yes." He paused, looking her face over. "I noticed your step when you entered. What happened?"

For a moment her expression crumbled, her brow forming deep lines and her mouth a hard line. "A mishap, I'm lead to believe." She offered a full smile, though her face didn't relax. "Unless you're here to correct my misapprehension, in which case I think we'll both have to find another place to take tea."

He didn't waver. He never showed her any reaction beyond curiosity or skepticism, and he placed all his emotional weight into the latter, so she indulged him with flourish.

"I'm flattered, in all honesty." She lifted her cup as though to examine in for flaws, the heat from its edge a pale mark on her senses.

"Have I said something to illicit your ego?"

"Oh no, minister. But for someone, someone in authority, to deem me dangerous and troublesome enough to be worthy of five, and no less five bending assassins, is really almost enough to make me reconsider any indignation I may have." The cup went down softly, and her hand returned to its position near the center of the table, resting on the tips of her nails.

Long Pham's gaze endured, bare and plain as the rock the molded, set against a line veiled and lupine.

"If you want to accuse me of something, do it openly. You know very well that I've had any number of opportunities to turn on you before now, much more convenient and assured than attacking you in crowded market. It was..."

_...an act of desperation. That was obvious. But I have to be sure. I can deceive and so can he, but he wants _only _assurances. Curious, ever curious. _"And if I set aside any attempt of accusation, what do you suggest?"

"Long Feng knows. He's known about your presence in the city for some time now, though he's never chosen to act on it."

She waved her hand. "I've gathered. There have been too many Dai Li "conveniently" coming across my path for it to be coincidence."

"Long Feng is nothing if not opportunistic. He wanted to know why the dead princess of the Fire Nation chose the Earth Kingdom capital to resurrect herself in."

"How dramatic. Assassins and divine intervention." _If Agni is watching me... _She almost smirked again.

Pham made a gesture of concession. "There is a strong character of divine presence in Ba Sing Se. There are many who believe that walls held during the Great Siege because of spiritual aid."

_And not because they were almost thirty feet thick. Or because uncle lost his son. Perhaps _that _was the hand of divine intervention. Life lost for victory gained. If so Agni I aren't so dissimilar. _She thought she might shudder, but didn't have to repress anything.

"I'm not here to discuss the spiritual beliefs of the people with you, minister. Get to the point of why you called me here."

He nodded. "It seems that we don't have as much time as I would have liked."

"To verify whether you can trust me?"

He drank from his cup again. "I won't lie to you, princess. I'd convinced myself that I had little, if any reason to trust you, and I've only met with you because you are a scarce, if not extremely valuable resource."

_So we're in the same position and of the same opinion, in that regard. _She grasped the cup again, like it was a hollowed egg shell. The steam had ceased. A minute furrow of her brow, an expulsion of breath, and the aroma rose, carried by thin tendrils.

"I would be careful, if I were you, of where you exercise your talents." He said it bluntly, as simple fact, with not tinge of threat or danger.

"I was under the impression that I was amongst friends." She took a small sip. Citrus and lavender. Not sharp enough.

"If you wish to believe so." He cleared his throat. "I can reciprocate the sentiment, for now."

"Of course." Then she straightened herself. "Now, if you know what you called me here for."

"You're aware of why I caution you from practicing your bending in public, aside from the most obvious reasons."

Now she smiled fully. "The war that isn't a war."

"Succinctly put. The Dai Li would have the city proper believe that there is no...larger conflict with the Fire Nation. It's simply a matter of trade and political disagreement. That's the official reason why there is to be no mercantile contact with them."

She nodded for him to continue.

"I'm sure you've noticed that no one is allowed to leave the city without proper authorization. That's really only an extra precaution. The Dai Li have, since long before the war, perpetuated the notion that Ba Sing Se is the cultural and economic center of the world. And from the perspective of a man or woman dwelling in the lower or middle ring, there is nothing of interest outside the vastness of our city borders, let alone our sovereign territory."

He placed emphasis on the penultimate word, as though rebuking her notions without having to be explicit.

"I know that much from my childhood education."

"But it's different when you're living it. I've traveled abroad, covertly and otherwise. No other place in the world that I've encountered has such a notion of isolationism. Even your Fire Nation acknowledges the outside world more readily, if only for monetary reasons."

"And what would you have me do, minister?"

He laughed, as he rarely did. "You call me minister, princess, but I'm no minister."

"Then what should I call you? General? You lead no armies, though you have combat experience. Soldier? You're not considered a disposable entity, not yet. You're educated, and you use that as a means to justify your outlook on life, though I admit your experience is parceled with that. You're a minister, as far as my experience is concerned."

Then the smile. "I would not try to deprive you of the power of your experience. But, if you must, call me a loyalist."

"Loyalist? Is that a title I'm unfamiliar with?"

"It's a more subtle title, buried under the layers contrivance."

_The point, then. _"So that's it. You're doing this for your country, your homeland."

"It's more than that. Princess, I'm aware that your presence here is no coincidence or convenient placement. You came here, homeless, money less, and without allies. You risk your life in a foreign city, and for what?"

"I have no home now, minister."

"Princess, you continue to operate under the condescendingly happy delusion that I'm a naïve idiot. It's something I could only indulge when we were both on opposite sides of an ideological spectrum, but now, I can't afford that kind of luxury, and I'm under no illusion that you plan to betray your father, or brother."

_Oh no minister. Not a happy delusion. Levity doesn't bring me here. It's the same for both of us. Save for one factor. "_Then pretense aside. My ideology, my...family."

"That will suffice for now. But, in time, I think you'll have a more through answer."

"The point." She leaned forward, her nails digging into the table, her ankle paining her again. She swept it aside as usual.

"There are three powers in the city. Long Feng, the five generals, and the king, though he's barely more than a figure head kept for the sake of convenience."

"And how much does his majesty know?"

His face darkened. "The king is happy so long as he can play with his idiot bear, and his generals are perfectly happy to keep him that way. And why not? Why should they take orders from a man who has never set foot outside this city, let alone on the field of battle?"

"Is that your indignation, minister?"

Pham sat silently, his cup unmoved. He didn't look at her, just at the table, his face holding the same placid expression. "I am loyal to the Earth Kingdom. Long Feng is loyal to the illusion he's created. He believes, with unwavering certainty, that this city is indeed a utopia, and that it's possible for there to be perpetual peace within it, so long as he can control its direction."

Her eyes narrowed suddenly, her grip tightening once more. "Tell me, minister, do you see my face in this city's reflection?"

"Yours? No. Not yet. It's your father's and his father, that meet my eye."

_And Zuko? Would one of us assume that glare eventually?_

"You're aware of Long Feng's collaboration with the Fire Nation?"

She nodded.

"He needs this war to continue. He needs to be able to manipulate our military, and yours, to maintain a proper balance. Our group is powerful, our grant you, but the Dai Li lack the military power to hold the city for long on their own."

"And if there is another Siege of Ba Sing Se? How will the balance be struck then?" She spoke rhetorically, but it was a game, and she had to indulge, though it twisted her face. _How many threw themselves against the walls? _

"If...if there is another siege, the Dai Li will fight, and...some will die. Like any other soldier. And Long Feng will endure. This city will endure." He shifted and lowered his eyes for a moment.

"And are you so certain of that, minister? I seem to recall another lesson from my childhood history."

He shook his head, speaking softly. "That's the final point, isn't it? This city will never fall under conventional attrition, I assume you realize this. And in that inability your desperation will be bred, and I'm well aware of history's repetitions."

_Perhaps five assassins weren't enough to stem my potential. _"I'm listening."

"I'm going to believe, Princess Azula, that you are not your father's daughter now, not now. And I will assume that your brother is not so cold either. I believe that we can both serve more than our own interests in this case."

_Was it ever more than mine? Or his and mine for our own sake? _She felt the heat along her skin suddenly, clashing with the cold of the slow dread that flared along with it. If this failed, their idea, so long in the making, she felt it would most likely be both of them that would suffer for it.


	4. Chapter 4

"Shoot."

The arrow sliced through the air and towards the sky, reaching the zenith of its trajectory just as a bright jet of blue flame rolled over it, igniting the shaft and sending the now twisted metal tip spiraling to the ground. Two more followed just as the first turned to ash, flying opposite each other. Twin jets of flame flew out, one for each arrow. The first caught fire in a brief flash, falling after its predecessor, while the second continued to travel unscathed, the jet barely grazing it.

Zuko's fist snapped downward and sent out a plume of fire, scorching the grass around his feet.

Li lowered his bow and spoke lazily. "Something off today, my prince?"

Zuko grunted in response.

"You prodigies and your obscene expectations. Get it right the first time, and you think you've got it the rest, but then you slip up just once..."

"Shoot it again."

"Why? So you can prove that you can hit it? You don't have to prove anything to me. I've seen you do it plenty before."

"Just shoot one more arrow."

Li sighed and positioned his weapon, the sun gleaming off the polished tip of the arrow. He pulled back the string slowly and carefully, as though afraid it would snap at any point. Pausing briefly, he held the stance, pointing at some bare portion of the sky before parting his fingers and sending the bolt flying.

Zuko remained motionless, staring after the rapidly receding point, his chest rising and falling in a deep rhythm. He pulled in a sharp breath, exhaled, his eyes widening and then relaxing as a spot of bright blue light engulfed the dark fleck, flickered briefly, then vanished without trace.

Li stared at him. "What did you do?"

Zuko closed his eyes and brought his palms together, steadying the feeling across his skin. "It's something I've been experimenting with for a while. The essence of fire bending is the breath, its control and eventual transformation to energy as fire."

"I do remember that much. It made sense to me intuitively, so I went with it."

"That's also the problem. I remember when I was learning to control it, to create concentrated bursts, carry them over a long distance, manipulate them. No matter how complicated I made the flames in the end, it all started from the same place: the stomach, the movement of the energy from that chakra through the breath, and the eventual pushing of the energy away from you, but the instructors always emphasized a particular motion, a stance, and sweep of the arm or legs."

"I wasn't the best student, but even I know that the stances are the key to advancing beyond accidentally setting your sheets on fire during a nightmare."

"It's true, they are, and if you ever want to use bending in combat you have to master them, but there was nothing that should have prevented me from extending my energy beyond me without having to throw out my fist or leg. All it would require would be more concentration, placing all the energy at one very small point, and letting it expand. A point explosion."

"An explosion. You should have just said so." He turned attention back to the bow, examining it compulsively as he always did, making sure the length of fiber was taught enough, that there was no unnecessary strain on the end portions of wood.

"It's more complicated. You mentioned setting your sheets on fire during a nightmare? That's the first stage of what I'm talking about. You might thrash around a little in your sleep, or you could just be perfectly still, languishing in a nightmare." _Walking or waking. "_Either way, you can set something around you on fire. But the flame isn't hot, it's not controlled, and it's not sustained. It sputters and dies, rises then tumbles around weakly." A flailing heartbeat. Zuko watched Li for a reaction, and saw only vague curiosity, like he was listening to some technical lecture explaining the flight of an arrow or the sharpness of steel. The precision of the bow and its necessary patience had come easily to Li. He had a good eye, a steady hand and none of the hesitation that had damned other recruits to watch posts. He'd started at the Fire Nation Academy, where Chu had labeled him an "intolerable braggart, with more talent for speech than the blade." Li's response of drawing an arrow from over a hundred yards and knocking the sword cleanly from the hand of Chu's rising star of a pupil had only served to irk the man further; he'd been only too happy to surrender Li to the Yu Yan when they'd made their rounds for potential recruits. Li had been content with retaining the basic katas and breathing methods of the art.

Zuko sighed as Li turned to take another practice shot. Azula would have understood what he was talking about. There was hardly ever any need to explain something to her in detail more than once, unless the explanation was flawed to begin with, and then she could usually puzzle it out before its architect had a chance to refine his argument. Her memory was sharp and refined, polished. Zuko had had once commented that it was like the nails she groomed to obsession, never left alone to chip or bend for a moment. When they were children, she had corrected the logic of an instructor as he attempted to explain the method behind being able to draw the heat from water. It was a continuous process, a cycle of taking heat from the water and expelling it to some cooler location. He could do it, if he wanted, though he'd never thought seriously of it; it seemed trivial and uninteresting to him, and in all honesty he'd lacked the patience to duplicate a first success, but Azula came from a different stock of thought. In the realm of theory she might have been his match, but for father..._It was never enough, was it? _She would come back. Nearly a year. A solid year is what she'd said. "One year." Said as she'd raised a slender, pointed finger, giving the statement some physical grounding in his mind. It was a promise now. She'd made it, but it felt like he had to keep it. It had been his idea originally, made out of casual contemplation and uttered in the spirit of debate one night when they'd been playing Pai-Sho in the pale light of a new Summer's moon. Then each token on the board had become a piece of strategy, from broaching the idea to father, to weaving the illusion of death from thin air, to bending the Dai Li. One year. They'd made promises before, as children on the cusp of disaster, when mother had left and father had loomed larger than before.

Li's arrows, buzzing through the air, brought him away from unpleasant paths of memory. It was now well into the morning; he didn't need to look up to know that. They'd risen at the break of dawn, with no incident. Zuko had relieved his fast with sweetly seasoned fish, soaked with lemon and drawn out in three neat, large strips. It had become a ritual of his of late to eat fish, as though to remind himself that the fisheries were still full and healthy. He'd even made the journey to a few himself just to watch. Each time he'd seen the fisherman drag up nets ready to burst with large, dark fish. On one occasion the captain of the vessel he'd been on had even taken one fish in hand and deftly sliced it open, displaying the pale and bloodied flesh to the prince. "You can see it, right there. The blood soaks in and shows you it's firm and full and ripe. Then you can see its skin, dark and smooth, full bodied color, yes?" Zuko had only agreed; he knew little of what qualified a fish as acceptable for consumption, only that it was always best to handle one by the eyes when you were preparing it for a meal. In the end the same captain had offered him a selection of the best fish out of the catch to be prepared as a personal meal, just to set aside any lingering doubts he had. That offer had been declined in the end, and he'd left, feeling foolish, but assured enough to never request being on the ship as the catch was being made.

"Does Ryo realize that there are those of us who have things we'd rather do than stand around in the middle of a field all day?" Li had settled on the ground and was looking at the cloudless sky careening overheard.

"He said he'd be here before the sun reached its height. That won't happen for another hour." The note had requested only himself and Li, and the time table stretched through the whole of the morning. The arrows had been a distraction to vent his anxiety, something that usually had more formal outlets, but with Li, he didn't feel bending training was appropriate.

"How kind of him to leave us here for the whole morning."

"You had some time to practice with your arrows. You should be entertained enough."

"Oh, yes. Great fun, shooting at the open sky and playing game-master for you."

"He'll be here. It's been a while since we've seen him anyway."

"I feel anxious as a lover waiting for his high-born consort to rendezvous with him away from the prying eyes of her intolerant family."

"As though you'd bother to do that discretely."

"It would be more fun. Half the fun of an affair is operating under the duress of being caught. Without that it's just awkward lovemaking."

"Also something I'm sure you know about."

Li only smirked in response.

A breeze picked up and Zuko turned to face it. He felt that Ryo would approach from that direction, taking some winding path from the capital to its outskirts. His feeling was confirmed when, after his initial expectation had waned, he'd seen the man emerge from the trees, wearing a plain shirt with none of the embellishments or colors of his house, and a pair of boots that might have labeled him a runner or retainer for a minor land owner. His sun-touched skin lent credence to that suspicion, as did his hair, cut short and held back, growing to a symmetrical outcrop near the top of his head. He moved with a kind of diligence as he approached, each step a measured distance, shoulders still and steady. A messenger to the glance, dutiful and punctual, but forgotten as quickly as he'd arrived.

Zuko could feel a smile threatening to break his lips, but he kept his face steady. He could see through the cursory impression; only a blind man wouldn't be able to. Golden eyes marked him as a firebender. They were brighter than Li's, deeper in their metallic hue, the sunlight turning them into glinting coins. And he moved like a firebender, never breaking his root for any longer than he had to, always keeping a certain distance between each step, ready to break into a stance at a sharp moment.

He stopped in front of Zuko and bowed, his body inclining deeply, eyes seeing the ground.

"Prince Zuko." A soldier ready to take orders.

This time the smile did break, and more, Zuko heard himself begin to laugh, the sound rising through his throat and body.

Ryo looked up, his face as schooled as it had been when he'd appeared from the trees. But there were cracks, Zuko could see. The slight tightening of his eyes here, the way his shoulders seemed to have become all the more rigid.

"What did they do to you in the Earth Kingdom? Shove a sword up your ass?" It was Li who broke the silence, but Zuko's laughter that brought Ryo to a relaxed posture.

"Have I changed that much for the worst?" There was humor in his voice at least.

"No." Zuko shook his head, still smiling like a fool. "Not at all, Ryo, not at all." He clapped a hand on Ryo's shoulder, and was in turn brought into a strong embrace. Zuko was taken off guard, first by the gesture then its strength, though Ryo had always been strong, broad shouldered and muscled, easily outmatching any other academy member who went against him hand to hand.

When he was let go, he saw Ryo had again composed himself, and looked slightly embarrassed at his display. He cleared his throat. "In the Earth Kingdom, it's customary to embrace those you haven't seen in a long time. It's a gesture of affection reserved for the closest of friends, and for family."

"Do you have many friends and family in the Earth Kingdom?" Li moved towards them.

Ryo ignored the quip. He looked around. "But it's good to be home. I said prayers of thanks that I was taught even before I went off to the academy."

"Are things so bad on the front?" Zuko asked softly, though he knew the answers well enough.

"It's not just the fighting. You've both been to the Earth Kingdom, but never at its heart. It's vast and empty, and heat...there is certainly heat, but it's oppressive, like it's some living, malignant force trying to kill you. Nothing grows for miles on end. It's just harsh sand and bare rock. The perfect place for an earthbender, no doubt, but even without a battle..." He shook his head.

"You never saw the forests?" He'd remembered them, lush and verdant, ancient and engulfed in shadow and spirit.

Ryo's expression turned grim. "Oh yes, I saw the forests. And they were red. We fought there, being ambushed twice as we made our way towards Omashu. I'd decided to take the way through the forest because I thought it would be more difficult for them to manipulate the earth there. The forests are old, and the roots of the trees are deeply planted. I was right in that; they couldn't attack as quickly or as fiercely, and that gave us some advantage; we pushed them back both times, but not without loses." He was quiet for a moment, his eyes narrowing. "The worst happened at night. We made camp amongst the trees. It was cool and quiet. We were near a stream, and it was welcome relief after the heat of the desert. We didn't lite fires, just heated the air around us. I was on watch, and it was quiet, so quiet. I could hear any kind of rustle through the leaves, the shaking of branches as birds took off. And then it became cool. It was like water rolling along my skin. I saw shapes in the forest, a blot against a dark background, and I couldn't tell if they were just the trees at first, but then I heard something darting past the trunks."

Zuko frowned. "The earth benders ambushed you at night?"

"No. They were...wargs. They had the shapes of wolves, but larger, their jaws broader, and their coloring was wrong. They swept past our defense line. You remember lieutenant Jin?"

"He was below us in the academy by a year, if I remember. He wanted to join the navy, but ended up in a ground battalion."

Ryo's voice became lower, deeper. "He was directly past the barricade we'd set up. One of those things jumped onto him and knocked him down. Ripped out his throat with one bite, jerking its head back with enough force to fling his body. I'd climbed a tree to get a better vantage point; I must have been at least twenty feet above the ground. The droplets of blood still hit me."

"And the others?" Zuko's voice held an urgency that seemed to chill the air around him.

"Once Jin went down, the whole camp broke into chaos. There were three of them, and each took a man down by the time I'd sent my first strike against them. One large ball of fire. I immolated the one that had taken Jin, and the others backed away, slowed down. The men on the ground took the initiative and threw them back with fire and steel." Ryo paused and drew a long, curved dagger from his belt, the hilt made of polished, black bone, the edge a line of light in the sun. The flat of the blade was clean steel, smooth and cold.

"Not a dragon's tooth, but a claw." Li murmured, voice riding with the breeze.

Zuko recognized the weapon. Ryo's father had given it to him before he came to the academy, and it had made him the envy of more than a few young recruits. He'd been one of the few who could match Zuko his skill with it only inflaming their resentment until it had been knocked from his hand by a well-aimed arrow.

"I stabbed one of them with this, right above its heart. I hit bone, and the blade barely made a cut in it. If it had been any other kind of metal, it would have snapped under the strain."

Li was unmoved. "If these things were as big as you say..."

"It's true that the bones of normal wolves aren't thick or heavy enough to put up that kind of resistance, but I stabbed from the side. I only hit its rib cage. The blade wouldn't have cut cleanly through, but the hardness of the bone, and the things' thirst for blood. It wasn't a hunt, it was a slaughter."

Zuko didn't dwell on that for the moment. "How many did they kill?"

"Five, including Jin.. They feared fire. That's how we pushed them back. They took steel blow for blow, almost in stride. We had to keep fires burning for the night, fling it at them when they came too close."

Li's tongue clicked. "What about the earth benders? You say they ambushed you. Were they ever attacked?"

"They were tracking us during the night. We had signal fires for them, keeping those things away." He paused. "Their blood was cool. I didn't realize it until after the battle was finished, but when I touched a pool of it, it was cool, and far too fluid. It almost seemed to be vanishing, but not like water in the sun. It left no stain on the ground, and the body of the one I'd burned turned to dust and ash, vanishing as the breeze picked up. I swear, they were almost like spirits."

Zuko's eyes darted sharply. "Spirits? Coming to flesh?" His uncle had often spoken of the spirit world, how sometimes the barriers between two worlds thinned and both could touch the other without the aid of the Avatar. There had always been something off in those forests, like he was being watched by something with intelligence.

"I don't know." Ryo shook his head, his shoulders low. "We moved out of the forest slowly, weaving around to slow down the earth benders. I took any archers we had and told them to wait up in the trees, the benders a bit below them." He exhaled slowly and shook his head. "That was butcher's work."

He hadn't changed. Zuko realized, and the air lost the chill it had acquired. He loved Ryo for that, acknowledging the act for what it was.

"You paid them back in kind." Li had turned from them, and didn't see the brief glare that Zuko gave his back.

Ryo waved it off. "That isn't the main reason I requested to come back, or asked you here."

Li snorted. "How did you manage that, anyway?"

"My father still has some influence in the military, and at court."

That was understatement at its fullest, but Zuko let it pass. "You mean spirits and ambushes weren't enough to drive you back?"

Ryo gave a smile, but it vanished, as though he'd forgotten himself. He spoke softly. "No. That wasn't enough." He again produced something, this time from the inner pocket of his shirt. He held it out for Zuko and Li to see, a small, circular object resting in the palm of his hand.

"Do you recognize this?"

Carefully, as thought it might crumble, Zuko reached out and took the piece, holding it up to the light, twirling it between his fingers like his uncle had taught him to do with coins. A light brown border, a red blossom stamped into yellow. _Flowers. Ryo had given a red flower, bloody and full. And I hadn't known what it meant. I'd taken it and I didn't know then. _He turned it over and the design was duplicated. _ She'd always liked flowers of fire. They fell at the height of summer. I'll send them to you, I'd said. Promised. Another promise to keep. _His fingers stopped moving, snapping the piece to a vertical position.

"This is a Pai-Sho tile, but I don't think I've seen one like this."

"Neither have I. My grandfather was a master of the game, always beat me since I was a boy, but this piece..."

Zuko closed his hand, fingers curling over the tile, shading his memory. "Where did you find it?"

"Jin's body. We were planning to do a fast burning, but we couldn't let the weapons go to waste, and Jin wasn't originally part of our regiment. He joined us, along with fifty other archers."

"There's a point, I assume?" Li might have been irritated, but he leaned forward and held himself tense all the same.

"Jin was nervous, terrified of something. He only approached me after he recognized me from the academy, saying that he had evidence of treachery against the Fire Nation, that he could trace it back to Commander Yen."

"I executed Yen two days ago. He died in Agni's gaze." _And never faltered from it. It always saw through to the truth. Fire burns away cold and dead deceit. Said the Fire Sages while they sacked Roku's temple and decried his reincarnation. _

"Did your father order that execution directly?"

"Who else has that authority?"

"Any commanding officer on the field, if he feels that treason has been committed."

"No...Yen was brought back here, interrogated in the Burning Tower, and then..." Zuko left the statement open.

Ryo was grinding his fist against the opposite palm. "And what did they find?"

"Nothing. But it didn't seem as though any extreme measures were applied to get him to talk." _Uncle commented on that. There was no fear from him. Why did Uncle bother to come? He returns from the front just to watch a traitor have his head removed._

"It was a mundane affair," Li spoke quietly. "Only myself, Zuko, Chu and General Iroh. Few at court even knew what was happening."

Now Ryo's hands snapped open. "Your uncle...he came with you because it was your first time passing judgment?"

"So he said." _Esteemed, Dragon of the West as he is._

No one spoke then. Only the wind gently bending the grass, high to the knee, made any sound. Then came the call of a bird, distant in the trees, followed by a sharp answer from closer on, then the sound of stiff, broad wings.

"I don't know why my uncle wanted to come with me. He watches me sometimes; I think it was his way of seeing what kind of a man I might grow into."

Ryo sighed, and it sounded like the cold hollow breeze from the trees. "It doesn't matter now. Yen is dead, Jin is dead, but whatever evidence he had, what it might have lead to, that's still alive, burning and festering." He looked at the sky. "And my father tells me that the Fire Lord has given permission to direct the bulk of the navy to the siege at the North. Is that also part of some large plot, ebbing our forces to one location so they can be betrayed and drown in black water?"

"Admiral Yu pushed for that decision. He wanted Zhao to command a portion of the fleet."

"Jin was Yu's uncle. No doubt the admiral will be grieved to learn of his nephew's demise."

_Now he bears that weight. "_Father is holding a festival to commemorate the march against Omashu and the commitment of our forces to the North. There will be representatives from all the great Houses in attendance, along with the members of the War Council. If Jin was correct, if Yen was involved in a larger scheme, we'll find the truth of this starting from there." His fingers uncurled and he stared at the red flower at its center, delicate and bright. _It's like our game. One piece for each strategy, each player. But what part does this play? Had it been on their board the whole time, hidden in shadow? _He shuddered, and felt cold at the height of summer.


	5. Chapter 5

The procession had come through the gate just after dawn, a slowly advancing cavalcade of steel and flesh, unfurling like a glittering rose in the red light as its parts swelled into the main city. At the head of the column sat Lord Fu, flanked on either side by his retainers and banner men, the thick cloth furling and unfurling in the wind, giving the single white fang set against a field of deep crimson a kind of entrancing dimensionality, almost a life of its own. Behind the head of the column came the other members of his clan; the smiths who had not been summoned to forge weapons for the military front, the artisans who weren't frantically embellishing pieces of armor and the hilts of weapons with personal and imperial insignias, and the entertainers, the jugglers, the fire throwers, the dancers and singers, all who had been plucked out of the ever growing crowd of displaced and disenfranchised professionals that had nothing to directly contribute to the war effort besides their ability to distract and beguile.

Zuko turned from the window with those two words burning in his mind. He was surprised it had taken him so long to arrive at so concise a distillation of what the whole festival had been cobbled together to accomplish, but there it was, scratched in like a seal. Now that he thought of it, the banners flying so freely also gave him pause; the whole procession was marching in dragon formation, with the leader at the very front, his most important men rippling at his sides like long whiskers, and the rest forming the body and tail. If they had truly kept with formal tradition, they would have arranged everything so that all the fire benders were part of the head and jaw, and could produce a massive but controlled plume flame upon command without breaking step. Most likely Fu had chosen the formation for other, less ostentatious reasons, but..._Father had to know that. _

Ozai was planning something, but Zuko didn't know what, and it always made him uneasy when he couldn't plot out the general mold of his father's machinations. It was like he'd been following a straight path that had suddenly bifurcated and now presented him with rapidly diverging alternatives that he couldn't discriminate between. And now the Fu clan had decided to show its full strength in the capital, at a festival commemorating the Fire Lord's strategic prowess, nonetheless, and with the anniversary approaching, serendipity couldn't be the scapegoat. Zuko frowned and tsked. _And as I was in shadow and loss, Agni gave me light and I could see the world in its balance and simplicity. _

He paused his recitation and waited, but no revelation came. He supposed that the Fire Sages couldn't be blamed for trying.

"Is something wrong?" Mai didn't look up from what she was reading, but it was as if for the duration of the question all of her attention was directed solely at him, and he felt both anticipation and the cool sense of detachment that came from years of conversing, point and counterpoint, argument and agreement.

"I don't know yet."

She sighed. "Is that supposed to mean something to me?" Now she set her scroll aside and turned her head to look at him.

Zuko simply looked back for the moment. She lounged on a padded bench, its legs and back left simple, just finely cut rods of wood. The silk of her shenyi was loose but still fitting enough that the curve of her leg rose out of the fabric as it fell along.

"No, I guess not." He walked closer and placed his hands on the foot of the bench, flexing them as he did so as though that would somehow relieve his stress.

"I didn't think so." She glanced towards the window before returning to her reading. They were in silence then, the atmosphere being punctuated only when Mai unrolled her scroll further; the slow, rhythmic hum of the increasingly close clan had long since been assimilated into the background and now only served as a grating reminder of Zuko's surprise at and ignorance of the reasoning behind their sudden appearance.

"Why is he here?" Zuko asked suddenly, not to her, or even to himself, but to the invisible presence tucked away in a tight corner of his mind that could answer all his questions.

"Are you really that bothered by him?"

"It's not just him, it's the whole clan. It doesn't make any sense. They haven't shown their faces in the capital in any number for years, have barely acknowledged that they're even a part of the noble clans, and then suddenly they answer the Fire Lord's request to appear at a festival that isn't even part of an official military procedure."

Mai was unperturbed. "It's not unusual for the clans to show off their strength."

"That's what the Festival of Fire is for. That's all it's for, and it happens every year, and Lord Fu hasn't showed his face there since my mother left." That's what she wanted to hear, he knew. _You're not quite so subtle with me as you used to be. _

"So it's about that, then?" She sighed again, thought not out of frustration.

"No. I've told you, I'm not brooding over that." _Mother never gave a reason though, did she? Did she know I knew the truth? _"My...uncle hasn't bothered to even send written correspondence in all that time."

"Yes, I've heard the stories."

"It's not a story. It's fact. He doesn't hide it, no one at court hides it." _And why bother?_ The Fire Lady's departure had been a relatively uneventful affair, given only scant official public voice by the Fire Lord, and almost incidental scrutiny by the more influential clans. It was only when word reached Lord Fu that his sister had "absconded in the middle of the night like a common thief," that he'd gathered the bulk of his forces, given his respects to the Fire Lord, and retreated to his lands in the south under some thin pretext of reinforcing the coastal cities. If Lord Ozai had felt offended by the abrupt and unceremonious departure of his brother in law, he hid his indignation well, requiring only that a representative of the Fu clan be kept in the capital at all times, and regular reports be sent from the clan's heartland to ease the uncertainty that the vacuum of the clan's forces had created.

"And you never did like surprises, did you?" She spoke faintly, as though she were fatigued, or her voice came to him from the other side of a heavy door. The scroll sat ignored in her lap, her chin resting in the palm of her hand as she looked to the window, not really taking in any of the sights.

_What are you thinking now? _Zuko tried to puzzle out her train of thought but he could only grasp and feel nothing, like trying to capture the breeze with his hand.

"I don't know what's happening. I don't like it." He spoke with finality. She still didn't look from the window, apparently lost in thought. No. He knew better than that.

"Do you know your uncle well?" She turned slightly.

"No. Just whatever face he chose to to show me at court. He never had any great love of me. He always just considered me my father's son, nothing more."

"There's no grudge between the two of you then?"

He frowned. _Could he have been stoking some kind of resentment during all those years since he retreated? Was this just an opportunity for him to try to settle something with me? _

"There shouldn't be. He only knew me as a child. If anything, he still hates my father." _If anything, I'm just an instant replacement for my father, should anything happen to him, though not quite so difficult an obstacle to remove. Could it be..._

"Is it your father?"

He paused again. They rarely spoke of his father or court in private, Mai having grown up in an environment that so emphasized court conduct and appearance that she felt as though some part of herself had long ago been permanently displaced by rhetoric and pretense. And Zuko...he felt no need to allow his father's presence to pervade his personal life more than necessary.

"It could be. I can't believe that Lord Fu would come to the capital with his entire court purely on his own volition." _His whole court. _Zuko felt the bile rise again. He muttered, "the benders, the soldiers, the singers, the craftsman, all summoned up from Agni knows where. It doesn't make sense."

"There's nothing you can do now. You know that." And she looked at him full on, her eyes glittering with the light, her hair draped along one shoulder, seemingly languid and almost fluid in the heat. He followed the motion of her hair, from her head to her eyes, her mouth, her shoulders. Suddenly he wanted to touch her, just her face and her neck and her hair, something that at the moment seemed almost oppressively intimate even in the increasing light and the view of the seemingly endless expanse of land and sea from the window.

He settled for sitting next to her, resting his hand on her thigh, rubbing the fabric of her outfit between his fingers, letting his arm rest along the length of her leg. He focused on the rising and falling of thread along his skin, briefly thinking of how it would feel to have a length of the silk running along his whole arm or his chest. His own arms were bare to the heat, and if he pressed her against him, he could have his curiosity satiated. He almost smiled in wonder. It never ceased to amaze him how fleeting his retention of those sensations were, and he stopped his motions when he felt her hand on his, resting but not tightening, like a fresh leaf landing just so against the surface of a placid pond, its weight barely being reflected. He could hear her, hear her breathing when he sat this close, and if he wanted to, could detect the minute differences in the heat of her body with each heart beat. He again compromised, feeling the pulse through the bottom of her hand. He couldn't effect things now, she was right, but he could still prepare himself.

"Ryo returned, didn't he?"

Zuko faced her. "Two weeks ago. He and his father have been making formal preparations for the arrival of all the other clans. I've barely seen him since he returned." His fist tightened reflexively, the mark of the tile still seemingly fresh against his skin.

She closed her eyes and tilted her head upwards slightly, for her a gesture verging on extravagance, though her hand remained on his. After a moment he could see the crinkle of skin around her eyes.

"Two weeks. That was at the same time that your father gave the order for the invasion, wasn't it?"

Zuko nodded.

"And Lord Fu received the summons and gathered his court to enter the capital in that space of time." She spoke more to herself, voice slow and detached.

_And there it was. _Zuko cleared his throat, almost smiling. "Ryo did ask after you, if you were wondering."

"Mhm. I know. He sent me a letter." She gestured as if to retrieve it from some unknown pocket or satchel on her person, only to lower it to her side a moment later. "He's so formal it would make my father uncomfortable."

"True," he mused, recalling Ryo's almost forced decorum upon seeing him and Li for the first time in two years. "But, that's how he is. With or without noble blood, he could have been the most well mannered and collected fisherman's son on the entire coast."

Mai sat up more. "Ryo as a fisherman's son?" She sat back, frowning. "No. Unbelievable."

"He can fish, at least with a sword or a stick. Better than I can, but I suppose he wanted to make perfectly sure that he would survive in as many environments as possible."

Mai only nodded, her attention seeming to focus on her scroll again. She sighed. "And how are things at the front, according to Ryo?"

Zuko hesitated. How would he explain spirits rampaging through the forests of the Earth Kingdom without sounding like a lunatic? He'd believe Ryo implicitly, but Mai had never been bound by constraints like that.

"Poorly, according to the number of people he says he lost in his division. Fighting in the flat, open lands is nearly impossible to bear, for both sides. The strategy is now to attack the water caravans and wait until thirst drives the enemy back towards the forests, and then..."

"What?"

He shrugged. _Logic evaporates. _"Ambush tactics. The earth benders have trouble bending around the roots of old forests, and there's enough water, both in rivers and rain, to keep the divisions sustained."

Her hand closed around his, still light, her voice the same steady tone. "It doesn't seem to have much, point does it? A few scattered platoons aren't going to do anything as long as Ba Sing Se and Omashu aren't occupied."

"As Admiral Yu and several others have been pointing that out for a while now."

"You seem to believe what Admiral Yu says most of the time."

He shrugged. "He knows what he's talking about. Most of the time, like you say."

"And the North?"

"Will probably remain unconquered for quite some time."_ Unless Admiral Yu has a way of melting the ice caps. _

"And how is Azula doing in Ba Sing Se?"

Zuko's fingers stiffened beneath hers, just for the span of a beat, but the action was noticeable enough that he may as well have given verbal confirmation of his guilt.

"I knew that she was there before now, Zuko. I just wanted to see how long it would take for you to decide to tell me on your own."

He sighed, removing his hand and drumming his fingers against his thigh. "My father is the only other one who officially knows. We had to keep this as secret as possible to make sure it had the greatest chance for success."

"And you thought that telling me that my friend hadn't actually died in a gruesome attack would help ensure the success of this mission? Interesting strategy, Zuko, but maybe next time you'll be able to remember that I'm not actually an Earth Kingdom spy."

"That's not what this was about. All your emotions had to be convincing. You spend a lot of time at court, and if someone like Yu happened to observe you closely enough I'm sure he would have been able to tell that something wasn't right with your reactions."

"Meaning, what, exactly?" The tightness in her voice made him want to sigh again, but he restrained himself.

"You're not good at expressing yourself, Mai. Don't try to deny it, because you know it's true." When she said nothing, he took it as leave to continue. "Any kind of deviation from your usual calm, even if it's small, draws attention. And hearing about the "death" of your friend is something that would have made even you react, and not lightly. I'm not going to get into whether or not you would have been able to put on a good front or not, but I thought having a genuine reaction would be the safest course. I'm sorry."

Her head turned sharply, gripping the scroll, crinkling the paper and distorting the characters. Zuko looked at the writing with what might have been disappointment, regret even. That scroll was from one his family's private collections, from his mother's side, in fact. Iroh had somehow convinced Lord Fu not to ransack that section of the library when he left, probably out of long standing favor or respect for the old general. If either of them could have seen how it was being handled now...

"And you couldn't have told me after all the acting was over? A month, two months? No one would have been paying attention at that point, no one would find it odd that I'd returned to normal by then."

"Well I didn't. I said I'm sorry, and there's nothing else I can do now. Some things are more important than common courtesies."

"It's more than a common courtesy, Zuko. It's trust."

Zuko shook his head. "No. Not this again. You've told me this before, and I said that there were certain things that I wouldn't tell you outright until after the effect. You agreed to that."

"I didn't agree to be deceived into thinking that people I care about are dead when they're really not."

"What did you think that would entail then? Trivial facts, meeting times and war room plans? Azula and I both agreed the we wouldn't tell anyone what was going on."

The scroll had hit the floor by now, rolling across the marble like a child's toy. "And did Azula come up with that, or you?"

"I said both of us." He couldn't help but raise his voice, though her's remained low and flat, always in that same, chocking control. "I don't even see how this is relevant now. You and Azula hadn't spoken for months before she left, even when you were both in the city."

"All right Zuko. I won't push this. But I refuse to accept that you had good reason for not telling me about what really happened months after this plan had been set into action."

_Did I have a good reason? Or was it just comfortable apathy that came from having one less contingency to plot out? _He looked as she rose from her seat, ignoring the scroll and moving to the door. The silk obfuscated the shape of her body, rendering her almost columnar, except for the sash that narrowed around her waist. "And how did you find out, if you don't mind my asking?"

She stopped but didn't turn. "Your uncle and I have interesting conversations from time to time." She exited without elaboration.

Zuko waved away any innuendos. _Now I have to guard myself around uncle as well. And I thought I could forge emotions around him. _He stood slowly, with feigned effort, pushing himself off the bench with both hands. The scroll had completely unfurled, the head resting against the opposite wall. He picked it up, glancing briefly at the first few lines of the poem before he started rewinding the paper, thanking whatever had prevented Mai from selecting an illustrated hand scroll. This at least had some duplicates that he was aware of. He placed the bound scroll on a stand next to the bench, tracing the thin paper with his thumb. She'd left lingering traces of her scent...jasmine. He couldn't place a description, just identify it for what it was.

The reverberations of a gong drew him to the window. It seemed that the procession had come close enough to warrant an official notice. _They'd reached the first inner gate. The palace guard should be moving out to greet them. _He almost smiled at the absurdity of a detachment of a hundred or so men moving to escort a throng of over a thousand. _If the other clan bring this many with them, it will look like the war isn't even happening. Guile and distraction. _

He turned from the window and removed his vest, tossing it on the bench and pausing in the center of the room. There would be a formal greeting once Lord Fu reached the audience room, and then he would be ushered to the Fire Lord's chamber where his father would demonstrate his infinite restraint and have his vassal kneel before him while the pleasantries of normal greetings were embellished to the point of absurdity. Lord Fu had to know that that's what was expected of him. No one saw the Fire Lord without bending a knee, even his own son.

Zuko lifted his chest plate from the stand next to his wardrobe. It felt...heavy was the wrong word. When he'd first donned armor, he'd spent the remainder of that day nursing the bruises he'd received from the blunt end of Chu's suddenly faster and more precise sword, and then putting salve on the junction between his shoulder and arm. _Too much for the bastard to have mentioned that the straps were on too tight. _Now he could sheath himself in metal almost casually, like a robe or his vest, his body having developed a layer of muscle along his shoulders, chest and arms, a sharp, almost too rapid step from the soft body of childhood and into the province of an adult's muscular physique. _I can wear it as casually as I would a robe. _He couldn't laugh, only tighten his grip around the cold, polished metal. They always erased the scars, so it looked like new. A failed parry had carved a jagged line through the center of the bloody flame embossed on the center of the chest piece. Now it was whole and clean. _Was I really in the right for not sharing that with you?_

With the armor still in his arms, Zuko stepped into the hall.

"Luping!" He called sharply.

He heard footfalls, and a moment later, his retainer came into view at the end of the hall. He'd likely been sitting on the chair just around the corner, as he usually was when he thought he might be needed in an official capacity. Zuko didn't even bother to reprimand him for wasting his time like that.

"Prince Zuko." He bowed and moved forward when Zuko motioned him forward, standing to the side with his hands outstretched as the prince approached him, taking the armor without pause and holding it like he were a stand rendered in human form.

Zuko pulled on the deep crimson shirt, thick and stifling. He shook his head and muttered. There would be a ceremony outside, just so everyone could see the royal family, and he'd be standing in heavy fabric and metal. If he concentrated enough, he could make it so the heat wouldn't touch him, but that would mean distributing it to the others around him. If he dumped just a small amount to each of them, they wouldn't notice enough to single him out.

He walked back to Luping, who by everything Zuko could tell hadn't moved from his position in the slightest.

"You can relax, you know."

"I'd just have to be at attention a few minutes later, so I don't see the point right now." He spoke without affectation.

"If you say so." He held his arms out at shoulder height. Luping placed the chest plate around his shoulders, the straps keeping it loosely in place. Zuko often wondered how the boy managed to know exactly how tight the straps should be every time without even questioning him in the process. Boy. Only three years younger, and he was already delegating a diminutive title, bordering on derision. Luping had few boyish features to his face, his cheeks high and his chin sharp, his hair long but held in a tight top knot that followed the style of some of the older students in the academy.

Zuko inhaled as the strap on his right shoulder tightened, lowering his arm and feeling his muscles relax.

"Have you seen Ryo since he returned?" Zuko could only take Luping's diligent silence for so long.

"Only once, on the day he returned. My father decided it would do me good to see my oldest cousin and hear first hand news from the front."

"Is that all you consider him?"

Zuko heard the irritated sigh. "And he's the future head of the Zheng clan. I have many cousins, and I'm closer to most of them in both blood and personality than to Ryo. I've told you that before, whenever you've asked, so I don't know why you keep asking." His hands stopped abruptly at Zuko's left shoulder. "I'm sorry, Prince Zuko. I forget myself." The strap on his shoulder was becoming uncomfortably tight from the increasing strain of Luping's hands, but Zuko kept his silence on the topic.

"Don't worry about it." The pressure subsided rapidly as Luping realized his mistake. "It's just that, people and their impressions of others can change over the course of a year, especially during war, or things done to aid in its progress." _Didn't Ryo say that there was more to the war than blood and steel? And is Azula going to be able to keep herself together for that much longer? _

Now the left strap felt as well adjusted as the right. Luping only grunted in acknowledgment, moving to duplicate his work on the lower straps, his hands working rapidly and with the precision imprinted from long regular repetitions.

"If I may ask, why aren't you wearing the ceremonial armor? This is the armor you usually wear on the field."

Zuko glanced over his shoulder. Luping's eyes narrowed in concentration for a moment as he finished the last adjustment on the strap. "It's a military gathering. Ostentation isn't supposed to be the focus."

Another grunt. "Someone should tell the Fu clan. They were never very good at concealing their ambitions and pride." He muttered the last part; if Zuko hadn't been standing so close he wouldn't have been able to hear.

The prince again said nothing. Luping finished fastening all the straps on his chest armor and stepped back so Zuko could move and feel the fit. He moved both arms in circles and twisted his torso as far as he could. He turned around.

"You did well, Luping. Thank you."

The boy bowed in reply. Zuko winced internally at his slip.

"Will you be requiring anything else, Prince Zuko?" And he sounded tired, but there was nothing to indicate that he hadn't slept long enough. Zuko had made sure that Luping didn't have any other obligation except to him, something which had delighted the...boy's father. Zuko sighed and shook his head. It couldn't be helped.

"Prince Zuko?"

"Oh, no. I can manage the rest on my own. You're free to go."

Another bow. "An honor to server, as usual." He left without further comment.

Ryo would have reprimanded him for something like that. Maybe Li was right about him having a sword up his ass.

Zuko manged the rest of his armor without incident, adjusting it so that it didn't press the cloth too tightly against his skin. Lastly he added the hair piece, his scalp feeling strange for the first moments before he acclimated. He stood before the mirror, the ideal image of a warrior ready for the field. _Or a __prince ready to play host. _

The hallways were almost entirely empty, and Zuko almost walked at a leisurely pace, taking time to admire the light coming through the tall windows and polished columns, and let himself relax in the quiet that was punctuated only by the sounds of birds from the courtyard gardens. He smiled and thought that he might even have even sat in the gardens and watched the sun move over the water while he ate ripe fruit. Any other day. But then, any other day and the halls would be busy, the birds would be grating on his nerves, and the peaches wouldn't be ripe yet.

He turned the corner and saw the chair where Luping usually sat when he was anticipating Zuko's call, but he'd left, vacating the seat to someone else.

"Ah, Prince Zuko I hoped I'd run into you." Admiral Yu rose and inclined his head slightly, a gesture which Zuko probably would have missed if he hadn't been focused solely on the man's face.

"Odd, since it seems like _I_ ran into _you_." _Though you'd never admit even that, would you?_

Yu waved the comparison away and fell into step beside Zuko, inhaling deeply.

"A beautiful day, wouldn't you agree?" He smiled, an expression Zuko couldn't help but associate with the man.

Zuko nodded. "I won't be able to enjoy any of it."

"How true, but such is life at court. I sometimes prefer being on the ocean; I can step on deck if it's a nice day, enjoy the son and the sight of the water, observe the sea birds and fish."

Zuko snorted. "Nothing like being on a scorching metal deck with the sun bearing down on you for hours on end and salty air stinging your eyes. I'm sure the deck hands love their work."

Yu laughed, long and low. It never ceased to amaze Zuko how well he could manifest genuine amusement at almost everything. "You've caught me, I'm afraid. I admit I don't envy their jobs, come the height of summer, but I still stand by my assertion that the solitude of a naval career can be its own reward."

"I'll be sure to let my father know you enjoy it so much. He might send you out on the first detachment to the North Pole."

"That would be very cruel of you, I'm afraid. I know of no firebender who would relish spending an extended time period in the North Pole."

"And yet you recommended a full frontal assault on that very location. Weren't you planning on at least joining your own men at the front?"

"I merely suggested, Prince Zuko, neither condemning nor condoning. Your father took my suggestion as the best course of action, and decided against withdrawing. As for my presence on the field, I fully intend to join my men once the third division is dispatched, which I expect will be within a few weeks of our little ceremony."

"You mean this display? It's going to be difficult to foot this expense with the war effort bearing down on us. Exactly how far have you managed to stretch the treasury, admiral?"

Another smile. "I have my ways. The Fu clan has actually been extremely generous with their treasury and man power. Your father's invitation has apparently had a diplomatic effect on our relations with Lord Fu."

Zuko almost stopped mid stride, his eyes widening before he could control himself. And Yu looked him straight in the face, that same pleasant smile shaping his features, while Zuko's face nearly snapped into a frown.

"Your father didn't tell you about his communication with the Fu clan?" He sounded surprised, an innocent bystander to a shared revelation.

"No, admiral, he didn't." _And were you part of that exchange, Yu, or is it just convenient for you to gloat at this point? _His hands curled into tight, trembling fists.

"I must admit, I was surprised as well, though not quite so livid." Zuko relaxed his hands as the admiral continued. "Apparently, the only reason I was informed in advance was because I was needed to handle the accounting associated with Lord Fu's...generosity." He left enough hesitation and uncertainty on the last word that Zuko almost congratulated him.

"Do you really think the unofficial finance minister and an admiral need to be informed of all the workings of the court?"

"My ego would prefer it, I admit."

Zuko rolled his eyes, no longer caring if the gesture was noticed.

Yu made no comment. "It's interesting, though."

A sigh. "What?"

"It seems that General Xi was also left in the dark, as it were, with regards to this extension of cordiality to Lord Fu."

Zuko hesitated. "And what are you trying imply by that dual lack of disclosure, admiral?"

"Nothing terribly incriminating, my prince. Simply that it's well known that you and Xi have been something of political collaborators for a time now, and I'm sure you've noticed the more recent connections that have been forming over the last few weeks."

"Say that you and Xi are becoming allies and leave it that, Yu. If my father has already noticed what's going on, I don't see the need for you to step lightly with words."

"Mhmm, but Prince Zuko you seem to be missing the key point that boasting your guilt isn't quite the same as merely being suspected of it."

"My father has never been one to observe the finer points of what constitutes treason as opposed to mere curiosity, and he knows I know that. What does he know about you, admiral?"

Yu's smile broadened. "More than I'd like, unfortunately. Still, I wouldn't have risen as far as I have, nor kept my head, if Ozai hadn't at some point assured himself of my usefulness and loyalty."

Zuko shook his head, forcing down his own smile. "It's all an act then, is it admiral? I wouldn't say that too loudly, if I were you."

"No," Yu conceded. "That would be a mistake, if spoken in any other company."

Zuko didn't bother to respond. He struggled to keep his hands relaxed at his sides, and his breath in calm steady streams. _Did father promise Lord Fu something? Lands? Titles? He had those in droves. What could...the reinstatement of his sister? _He flexed his hands out of want start gesturing. _He couldn't just forgive high treason without any consequence from court. And if she did return, what would, what would she think. Me. Azula. Father. _

"Machinations going awry?" Yu spoke pleasantly.

"Never mind, admiral." _He probably knew anyway. And Xi decided to stay quiet, even after the difficulty of positioning him in the North Pole. _

They moved in silence then, encountering more and more people as they progressed towards the Fire Lord's throne. He hoped he might see Mai, or even Ryo amongst the streams, but Ryo would be with his father and Mai would be avoiding him. He glanced to the admiral, who was cordially greeting anyone who was within earshot. So he had Yu.

"Have I ever told you about my own son, Prince Zuko?" He had the pleasant smile on his face again, a totally useless expression, as far as Zuko was concerned.

"No. I wasn't aware you had a son." _And you obviously didn't care enough to tell anyone._

"Mmm. I suppose I'm neglecting my duty as a parent to boast of his child's exploits and prowess."

"Assuming there are any, of course."

That earned him a bigger smile. "Right you are, my prince." He sighed, almost dramatically. "I'm somewhat disappointed, to be honest with you."

"Why, if I may ask?" Zuko glanced at the windows, not caring for the answer either way.

"Just dashed expectations. I suppose every military father would expect his son to follow in his footsteps to at least a limited extent, if only by expressing a passing interest in the workings of the institution that provide for his family."

"Is your son not taken by martial life?"

"Taken? He rejects it as dull and tedious. I could barely get him to take up swordsmanship when he was younger. I had to threaten him with a severing from the family name on more than one occasion."

"My father was always of the opinion that a quick, painful lesson on the first offense is far more effective than the thin promise of an overwrought punishment."

"I expect nothing less from Lord Ozai. Perhaps if I'd adopted the same attitude, my son would have turned out differently."

At this Zuko laughed. "Don't be that quick to change yourself, Admiral. There are worse ways your son could have been molded."

"I trust your word on that. But, I could have made him join the navy. Instead, he wastes his time on the beach, using my name to puff himself up."

_As though we need to deal with someone like that at a time like this. He'd only be killed in a skirmish somewhere. _

"I find it odd, Prince Zuko, that Lord Fu brought so few soldiers with him, but an excess of court performers and artisans. It's a military occasion, after all. We need fighters, not entertainers. You've noticed, I hope?"

_But haven't made a connection. Say it, admiral. _"I have. What of it?"

He shrugged. "It's something you should keep in mind while Lord Fu is here." He paused. "It's something your sister would notice easily, even if you don't." He stopped short of entering the cavernous hallway that lead to the Firelord's chambers, bowing and smiling pleasantly. "Good luck, Prince Zuko. And try to keep yourself alert. It would be rather empty without you around." With that, he turned and walked down the hall, hands behind his back.

Zuko's now trembling fist flew open as his arm snapped up, the air in front of him wavering with heat that quenched at the last moment by exhaling sharply and scattering it all around him. He turned from the minister before he saw a second attempt through, his face slowly relaxing from its contortions.

_Treason, is that what you're edging at, Admiral? Would you like me to run to my father for protection like a scared child? Or would you like me to think..._He took a heavy breath, slowly his pace and looking ahead. _Would you like to think that ours and the Fu clan has reached some sort of agreement that I'm not allowed in on?_

His pace slowed further as he mechanically raised his arms so his father's guards could search him. He had to stop from rolling his eyes as the process concluded. As though anyone could throw a knife faster than a fork of cold fire could travel. He recalled the man's hand, frozen as if in pose for a sculptor, the skin splitting then charring away into ash and dust, smoking bones, seared flesh, and the white-hot twisted bulb of metal being the only markers of the would-be hero of the Earth Kingdom. _And that, Admiral Yu, is how I learned that we were really at war. _

Taking another breath, he took the plunge. The entire chamber seemed to react to his presence; the shadows on the floor flickered as the heavy drape was shifted and fell, pushing against the cold, smooth columns that that flanked the walkway to the throne. He could feel the change in heat as well, his own body adding to and disrupting the previously steady flow. It really was alive. As a child he'd always wondered why no one else seemed to notice the changes when someone entered or left room, how in the first everything seemed to become brighter, stronger, more vivid, and in the last everything dimmed, like the first glimpse of an early winter arrived and chilled him.

Zuko stopped in the center, confronted by the presence of Ozai, a bonfire amidst candles. _Gaze into the sun. See the soul of fire. _He went to one knee, bowing his head, his fist pressing against the cold floor, the fires above him dancing on the floor. The heat rose, his clothing became stifling, his face flushing, like high noon, only to fall a moment later as his father's voice reached him.

"Rise now, Prince Zuko."

He did just so, standing in a fluid motion, using only the strength of his legs. Now that he looked forward he saw that his uncle stood to the side of his father's dais, wearing his own formal armor, his hair sleeked back and styled up in a topknot. From afar he looked well built and imposing in his armor, aged but with a strength honed from experience. Yet as Zuko stepped forward to ascend the dais, the shadows on his face peeled back, running up to reveal a receding hair line, sunken eyes, and a thick, pointed beard that Zuko thought looked like more of a prop used to conceal the sagging jowls on his uncle's face. Zuko frowned as moved up. _Had he looked like this on the day of execution? Was I so distracted by my new assignment that I couldn't even turn an observant eye towards him? Drinking. Not just tea anymore, was it? Or had the field of battle been that unkind to him? He knows. _Zuko assumed his seat on the cushions, shifting his eye as his uncle let his arms fall to his side. _He knows about Azula, and he's been back for less than a month. Yu must have known as well. Were they..._

His father's attention shifted to him. Zuko gazed forward.

"I trust you weren't taken too much by surprise by Fu's arrival?" It was barely a question. Almost an expectation.

He swallowed a retort. "No. Although, I can't say that I was expecting him to show up with this much fanfare."

"The Fu clan is arrogant enough for two noble lines. It's just a reinforcement. One that they needn't have bothered with a this point."

_Oh, so you do have someone dancing in your palm. How soon will we see you make a fist? _"Has Lord Fu been away from the capital for so long that he forgot we have entertainers of our own?"

The heat flowed out evenly suddenly, like a large animal sprawling itself contentedly in the sun's rays. Zuko fought to keep from indulging in the sensation.

"Oh no. Don't think he's forgotten anything that's happened at court. He has a long memory." A whisper, barely audible, but rough as broken stone.

"Long memory." He turned to his father. "Something you two have in common, I think. Long memories make for long grudges. That's what's at play here for both of you, isn't it?"

"Keep your theories under your tongue, Zuko. Our guest is approaching." And a faint, thin smile broke his father's face just as the Fu clan's retainer passed through the threshold. He met the center of the room and dropped to his knees.

"Fire Lord Ozai. It is an honor and a privilege to serve you and the Fire Nation here at court, my lord..."

But Zuko's thoughts were moving quickly past the fool on the floor. _Damn Yu. He should have come straight out. Something your sister would know. So he knows as well. _He almost growled at the man's flippancy again, keeping his rage in check by funneling the energy into the flames behind him. Ozai's head turned slightly, more out of curiosity, Zuko sensed, than a repremand. Zuko continued to fume. _And what good are all the idiots in the procession? It's not a subtle jape, father wouldn't even care about something that trivial. Then..._

The profile of heat changed yet again, growing and assuming a more domineering feeling, making Zuko uncomfortable in his clothing again. He compensated quickly, tensing at the same time. He saw the veil of thick cloth lift, and then his younger unlce strode into the room, alone and without hesitation.

Zuko's eyes narrowed. _Now this, this could be the Dragon of the West. _

Tall and broad shouldered, his hair dark as Ozai's, face clean shaven, he carried himself with a poise that could have distinguished him even if he were garbed as a fisherman. His eyes gleamed gold as they reflected the fire, pale and hard. His face wasn't sharp, but fuller and more handsome, the dual to a woman's beauty. _Mother's face. _

He came to the center and fell to one knee, his back straight even as he lowered his head, an act of supplication which was once again offset by his cool and precise demeanor.

Zuko waited for the heat to change, to spike or die or come off in oscillating torrents. Instead it remained still, like a candle burning at a steady rate.

"Rise, Xen Fu."

Zuko hid his incredulity. Only a brief moment, barely longer than the amount of time he'd spent kneeling before being given leave to rise.

"It is an honor to finally return to the capital after so long an absence. I've missed being at the heart of the Fire Nation, away from its vitality."

"And it's an honor to bid you welcome again, brother, though you were always welcome from the start."

_As a silent supplicant, no doubt. _Zuko strained to maintain his own silence.

"I left on my own volition, I admit. My sister's abrupt departure still troubles me, though I doubt I can gain anything more than a reassurance that at least she left with no harm being done to her." Here Xen met Ozai's gaze, calmly and unflinchingly, his eyes appearing almost limpid in the shadows. Now the heat spiked, the flame incinerating the wax at a furious clip. Only for a moment. Ozai's voice remained steady.

"I was surprised to discover her ulterior motives. I did what was dictated to me as heir to my father's throne."

Zuko bit down on his tongue to suppress a fit of hysterical laughter. It was too good, like watching a brilliant piece of satire unfold in front of him.

Xen merely nodded, his expression remaining the same. He'd kept the temperature around him nearly constant during the entire exchange, his body giving off no more heat than Uncle Iroh, who stood silently, if not conspicuously in his clinking armor. _Is that just an act uncle, or do you really not care that an assassin may have just walked into our midst? _Zuko tensed, drawing deeper breaths.

"I would be lying if I said that I didn't bear any sort of grudge against your house, Lord Ozai." He paused as though for effect, and, receiving only silence, continued. "I've spent the last eight years focused exclusively on marshaling forces in the south, training them to defend the coasts, and bolstering our efforts in the Earth Kingdom. I lost a son." He let that sink before picking up another weapon.

_You think my father's armor is vulnerable to that sort of attack? Did you think before you approved your sister's marriage to the man?_ Zuko nearly sneered.

"However, I'm not here to open old wounds and lay my grievances at the feet of the Fire Lord. I'm here to unite our houses as they haven't been since my sister's absence. I'm here to ensure that the Fire Nation will continue to prosper for centuries to come, and that this war will not be our downfall."

The flames burst from their constraints, their peaks flaring to life, almost licking Zuko's back as he flew into action to contain them, his eyes never leaving the man standing so serenely beneath him.

"Downfall." Ozai's voice was as quiet and harsh as ever, gravel grinding under the churning of steel. "You speak of downfall when you yourself have remained hidden in your lands for near a decade, sending only a pittance of your actual forces to the front. Oh I know the men you've been committing, Fu, and I've tolerated your delinquency for no other reason than the stability of the nation during a time of war. Infighting is not something that bodes well for us at this juncture. So speak your true purpose at coming here with your entire court, and remember that you have blood kin who would be more than willing to serve as head of clan."

And Xen smiled, something that seemed pleasant and cordial, something that if the man had directed at Zuko in his youth would have instilled him the feeling of security and comfort, and now only served to set him even farther on edge as he couldn't help contrast his outward appearance with his pale, still eyes.

"I said I wished our clans united. I mean that. However I first need to set aside my own mistrust and resentment." He still held the casual smile. "If you would allow me, I can even make it a show of my own strength, and that of the Fu clan."

Ozai might have been taken aback, from how the flames reacted. "You wish to fight me in single combat?"

"You? Oh no, Lord Ozai. I have no desire to test your mettle in combat. It's something that no one in the entire nation doubts. Anyone else is a child or a fool. Likely on the latter, for even children show the occasional grain of wisdom. No." His eyes became animated in that moment, as if soaking up the flames to enliven them through some sort of alchemy. "There's one here who shares the blood of my clan, and then yours. The distillation of the strength of both our clans. As per our discussion."

He turned his attention to Zuko for the first time, his eyes flashing now. "Zuko. I challenge you to single combat through Agni Kai."

_It's just a few months shy of a year since this had been updated, and as anyone who has looked at my profile can see, I've been toying around with other ideas in that time period. I never abandoned work on this story, I just haven't been focusing on it as much as I should have. I'm going to set my other projects on the back burner for the time being to focus on this, so expect to see more regular updates, and be assured that the action will pick up after this point. We'll be seeing more of Azula next, and possibly a few other characters from the cannon. I think I've done a fairly good job at keeping Zuko in character, given his changed circumstances, but let me know if you think there are any major discrepancies that detract from him as a character. _


End file.
